So Far Around the Bend
by thedeadflag
Summary: A collection of One Shots set within the 100-verse. Will probably be a healthy split between Clexa and Clanya works.
1. Chapter 1

**Pairing: Clarke/Anya**

 **Anya gets a strange text that might manage to salvage her evening, and give her a trip down memory lane**

 **Modern AU/Fluff/Minor Smut  
**

* * *

 **9:22PM  
Unknown Number**  
 _If you give me pizza, I'll let you touch my butt_

Anya found herself staring hard at her phone screen, not at all sure what prompted someone to text her such a message, and definitely perplexed at who it could be. She wasn't ignorant of booty-calls, she'd certainly had her fair share during University, but social media had been sloppier and less refined back then. She was on the older side of twenty-five now, and things like that, while they still happened on occasion, were rare.

So needless to say, despite the confusing situation, she was a little amused at the possibility of someone getting her number and sending her one. Or, at least, someone misdialing and sending the wrong person a booty call. Honestly, that might almost be better.

Anya knew she could handle this one of two ways. She could be a mature adult and ask who was calling, potentially helping the other person realize their error, if the message wasn't meant for her. Because, really, it likely wasn't meant for her, and someone would have to be brazen about the situation to continue after that kind of response.

Or, she could amuse herself, because she WAS terribly bored, with her weekly girl's night having been cancelled short notice after she'd gotten half her prep done. Something like this could kill a few minutes and give her a funny story to tell friends next week, at the very least.

"To hell with it, let's shake off the rust and have some harmless fun." She muttered to herself, starting up a reply.

 **9:24PM  
Anya**  
 _Enticing offer. Tell me more..._

Anya figured it'd be best to maybe lead in with a more teasing angle than something more brazen that could end the interaction faster if she messed up.

 **9:25PM  
Unknown Caller**  
 _Wellllll I'm super hungry, and I just finished an intense 30 day squat workout at my gym, so you can get in on this prime real-asstate for the low low price of a pizza. Pepperoni-pineapple to be specific_

Anya leaned back into the couch and let out a laugh at the response. Either the person was drunk, or desperately hungry for a few things. And to be honest, pizza really didn't seem like such a bad idea. Still, she had no clue who this was, and maybe prodding around could help.

 **9:26  
Anya**  
 _You're pushing your assets pretty confidently. How do I know if it's worth the price of entry?_

 **9:28  
Unknown Caller**  
 _Haha as if you need a reminder but alright. All this can be yours for one easy payment of delicious pizza, complete with the Griffin seal of approval_

Anya didn't have long to digest the caller's message before a second one with an image popped up. And try as she might, Anya could not look away, because that really was a premium grade ass. Glorious, even. Whatever squat workout the girl had been doing was definitely worth it, in her books. It was a picture from behind, the girl facing away from the camera and leaning onto her bed, a head of thick, wavy blonde hair spilling past her shoulders.

Anya was definitely intrigued, even if this was still completely out of the blue, especially since the unknown caller really had seemed to send her message to the wrong person. She reluctantly scrolled back up to the previous message and took it in, eyes fixating on 'Griffin'. She knew that name from somewhere, but was having trouble recalling from where.

Anya was just getting ready to type another probing, vague reply when it hit her.

Griffin. She had neighbours down the street with that name, she helped them lose a few pounds a few years back when she was still working as a personal trainer during Uni. Nice people, Jake still occasionally stopped by for gardening tips on occasion. They'd even invited her over one New Years' for their block party, and they'd been hilarious drunks, and their daughter...

"Oh fuck." She muttered, cursing herself internally for having entertained the text at all now, because it only took a glance at the picture again to confirm it was their daughter, Clarke.

Clarke, who was five years younger than her. Clarke, who was like sunlight personified, just fucking radiant in her beauty. Clarke, who once had a big teenage crush on her, and had drunkenly asked her out a few years ago at the party before the girl's more sober friends could haul her away. Clarke, who used to ogle her ass when she was out in her front lawn, gardening. Clarke, who had moved away across town to be on her own and study art, much to the chagrin of her mother, though Jake never seemed to mind too much.

Clarke, who had been out of bounds for so long that Anya had eventually forgot about her. Clarke, who was probably twenty-two by now. Very legal. And definitely full grown.

"How the fuck did she get my number?" Anya asked herself as she leaned forward and wondered if she should make it clear to the blonde who exactly she was sending messages to. Honestly, it just seemed like the right thing to do. Still, she didn't want to entirely ruin the mood, in case it really was all on purpose.

 **9:30  
Anya**  
 _Two questions, if I may?_

 **9:30  
Clarke Griffin**  
 _Oh you may_

Anya rolled her eyes at the girl's response and quickly typed out her inquiries, hoping that it would at least clarify what all was going on.

 **9:31  
Anya**  
 _One, might I share in the delicious pizza if I let you touch MY ass? And two, do you know who you sent this to?_

 **9:31  
Clarke Griffin**  
 _Raven, if you're trying to get me to call you Dr Reyes again I'll scream. And, uh, to answer the first, duh, but i'd prefer your hands be full of a little somethin else ;)_

Anya let out a sigh, not knowing who Raven was, and definitely having confirmation that none of this was meant for her, as slim of a hope as that had been.

Deciding to at least have a good laugh at the ordeal, she decided to dig up some of the blonde's awkward attempt at asking her out, and throw it into the text.

 **9:32  
Anya**  
 _I hate to break it to you, sweet cheeks, but this isn't Raven. But I am proud that you did end up toning your body, even if it was without my hands on expertise._

 **9:33  
Clarke Griffin**  
 _Finn I stg, you have to stop fucking around on Raven's phone, or we'll both kill you. Stop being creepy_

Anya quirked her brows at the hostile response, and the fact that Clarke clearly still thought she was messaging at least Raven's phone. She wasn't sure who Finn was, but she at least approved of the blonde lashing out against a creeper.

 **9:34  
Anya**  
 _I don't know who Finn is, and you're not messaging Raven's phone. Sorry to break the bad news, but it seems you've been pranked._

 **9:35  
Clarke Griffin**  
 _Ugh I'm going to kill Octavia. This sucks. I just wanted some pizza and for someone to touch my ass. Sorry random stranger._

 **9:36  
Anya**  
 _Would it help if I told you that you didn't text a random stranger? And that the initial offer is still enticing?_

Anya sat there waiting as seconds ticked past, and nearly decided to toss on some Netflix after a few minutes had passed, figuring Clarke had decided to cut things off. However, her phone buzzed once more just as she was reaching for her remote.

 **9:44  
Clarke Griffin**  
 _Depends on who it is. And if they're up for getting a large instead of a medium, with extra pineapple._

Anya bit down on her lip to stifle a laugh, wondering just how hungry Clarke was that she'd negotiate with a potential stranger over pizza toppings. Feeling more than a little amused, Anya moved to her mirror and made sure she looked at least presentable. And maybe she swapped her tops for the more brazenly cleavage-heavy one she'd planned on wearing that night before she snapped a selfie with her practiced amused-and-slightly-superior smirk.

Not wanting to have any time to second guess herself, she sent the picture Clarke's way, and followed it up with a brief message.

 **9:48  
Anya**  
 _Surprise, sweet cheeks_

Anya barely had to wait ten seconds for the first response from the younger blonde.

 **9:48  
Clarke Griffin**  
 _Oh no_

 **9:48  
Clarke Griffin**  
 _This can't be happening_

Anya just smirked at the panicked response, feeling a slight bit of sympathy for the woman.

 **9:48  
Anya**  
 _I would think those four words to myself every afternoon of your senior year in the spring, when you'd ogle me while I was gardening._

 **9:49  
Clarke Griffin**  
 _Hey! Who wears tight pants while they're gardening? And they only got tighter! I mean, you wore denim so tight that it had to have been painted on!_

 **9:49  
Clarke Griffin** _  
AND LEATHER? IN NINETY DEGREE WEATHER? REALLY?_

Anya laughed at the memory, even if it was all from much tamer reasons than expected. She'd been doing stunt double work at the time, and she'd often wear a lot of what she had so the costuming department would save some money. And because she only had a brief time between getting home from that job, and going off to work as a personal trainer, she'd get her already dirty clothes a little dirtier with some gardening before going in to shower and change. That she'd been stunt doubling as some sexy urban spy was just an afterthought at the time.

 **9:49  
Clarke Griffin**  
 _But, before I let myself die of embarrassment and humiliation, can you give me a good reference to a hitman? I need to have my friend Octavia assassinated._

 **9:50  
Anya**  
 _I might know a guy. But I have a counterproposal, Clarke_

 **9:50  
Clarke Griffin**  
 _Are you going to kill me instead and get it over with quickly? Because I would prefer a merciful death. I'm innocent in this._

Anya shook her head in amusement as she crossed the room and grabbed her car keys. Now or never.

 **9:51  
Anya**  
 _Your friend clearly meant to embarrass you. I'm sure she knows all about the crush you had on me a few years ago._

 **9:51  
Clarke Griffin**  
 _Twist the knife why don't you_

 **9:51  
Anya**  
 _My point is that she wanted to get a good laugh at your expense. But if I'm being honest?_

 **9:51  
Anya  
** _You're hungry for pizza, I'm thirsty for you. And whether we grope a bit while we eat, or I end up with three fingers knuckle deep in you, I'm confident in that Griffin seal of approval. I'm sure you could find something to rub in your friend's face with my help. Your call, sweet cheeks._

Anya sat with a mild sense of anticipation a she waited for a response. It wouldn't be a total let down to get rejected by the blonde, she understood that a lot of time had passed. People changed, after all. But she really would be up for getting a good hands-on look at Clarke's hard work at the gym. And she wouldn't be opposed to catching up with the younger woman either, everything else aside.

 **9:53  
Clarke Griffin**  
 _Anya, if you give me pizza, I'll let you touch my butt_

The message was followed by Clarke's address across town, and maybe Anya rushed out the door and into her Lancer. Maybe she sped to her favourite shop and paid the manager an extra few dollars to speed up the service on the pepperoni and double pineapple pizza.

And maybe, later that night, Octavia got sent a 'thank you' picture of Anya's head buried between Clarke's thighs, hands gripping the younger blonde's ass while she attempted to eat her pizza.

A little eating out, some quality pizza, a gorgeous host, and a solid workout. Anya really couldn't find a reason to ask for much more on a Wednesday night.

Clarke stopping by the next day to watch her tend to her tulips and lilacs, well, that was the start of something entirely different.

* * *

 **A/N: Welp, this is me trying to get fully motivated to write again. I saw a post on tumblr a ways ago, something like 'if you get me pizza I'll let you touch my butt', and I thought a bored Clarke Griffin could definitely be the kind to send something like that to someone.**

 **Anywho, this was just silly, but I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Pairing: Clarke/Lexa**

 **Lexa is a very superstitious person who is very intent on respecting traditions and rituals around fortune. With help, Clarke's house is decked out with festive ornaments for a party hosting the sports teams of two warring local schools.**

 **Modern AU/Holiday Fluff/Childhood Memories**

* * *

"I can't believe your mom thinks this is going to work, Clarke." Octavia noted, sidling up to her, both girls looking down on the foyer from the hallway balcony on the second floor, watching more and more of her rival high school's hockey teams filter in. "I give it an hour before a fight breaks out."

Octavia's prediction made sense, given the context. Ark High and Trigeda Tech had a decades old feud across every sport their teams matched up in, and there were dozens of major historical milestones that kept that bad blood continuing.

Last week, however, the Ark High boy's hockey team badly injured one of Trigeda's star forwards, and a bench-emptying brawl broke out. Her own team's game against Trigeda high had lacked the fighting, but not the intensity and chippiness that led to it being the most penalized girl's hockey game in conference history.

Needless to say, things had gotten a little out of hand. Her mom, being a member of the city council, arranged for a peaceful holiday social gathering outside of school grounds in hopes that it would dissipate some of the tension and ill will between the teams.

Clarke just figured they'd be looking at a few thousand dollars of property damage and a few hospitalizations by the end of the night.

"Speaking of people I'd like to fight..." Octavia added, drawing Clarke's attention to the door and the three who were being let in, a chill coursing through her body as her gaze met that of Lexa Woods, the Trigeda's captain. A girl Clarke had a long, confusing history with that likely wouldn't get any less complex after tonight.

 _She does look damn pretty tonight...though, she's always pretty, so...ugh..._

Clarke forced herself to hold the other girl's stare for a few long moments before taking in the sight of Tris, who Octavia had nearly dropped gloves with last game, and certainly would have if it wouldn't have basically handed her a month or two's suspension for instigating a fight.

But then Clarke took in the third figure, and couldn't help the smile that bloomed on her face, or the happy wave she sent Anya's way. The older girl, a junior in college by now, may have been Lexa's step-sister, but Clarke knew Anya as her swimming coach and as a mentor of sorts through the years in girl scouts. If nothing else, it was a good sign that Anya was there to keep the Trigeda leadership in line, being a bit of a legend in leading her school's teams to three state soccer championships, one hockey championship, and a slew of individual accolades in swimming.

Anya caught sight of her wave and shot her an amused smile, eyes widening for a brief moment as if to declare it'd probably be a ridiculous night. Though, with her there, probably not as ridiculous as it could have been. Clarke doubted Anya just happened to be back in town midway through the week, which led her to believe that at least Lexa was trying to keep a fight from breaking out in her home, knowing how many people respected Anya enough not to cause a scene around her, particularly when the woman's voluntary attendance meant that there was at least a modicum of support for the event.

Clarke caught sight of another familiar face coming in and nudged her friend. "Hey, your boyfriend's here." She noted, sending Octavia practically screaming down the staircase and into Lincoln's arms. Without her partner in crime, Clarke knew she should probably get back to finding all the audio equipment stashed in the attic for whatever nonsense the karaoke contest later that night would be. Clarke was pretty sure her mom was imagining some fun, casual thing that her dad and their friends would drag her around to, and not a potentially violent Battle of the Bands bit of madness. _Seriously, we could all just do without adding more competitiveness, like, for fuck's sake, that's why we're here..._

And it was one of a number of little voluntary competitions that Clarke was sure would probably end in catastrophe, like the 'snowball war' in her back yard. As far as she was concerned, she'd help set things up, put out some food, have a little chat with Anya, and then settle down in the rec room for a movie while the rest of the property descended into madness.

* * *

"We're not leaving yet, and that's final. Coach told us we'd stay until ten, so we're staying until ten. Do not ask me again." Lexa grit out to Tris, who was immensely unhappy that things had gotten a little rough in the snowball war. The hothead needed to learn to appreciate tactics instead of rushing out into an unknown battlefield, where she'd been tackled and relentlessly facewashed by a furious Octavia Blake.

Tris just huffed and marched off towards one of the washrooms in the gargantuan house, where the Griffins had been so kind as to set aside some disposable dry clothes for those who needed them. _Of course, no one SHOULD need them, because this ridiculous get together isn't going to change anything. Six people have had to go home because of broken noses, sprains, or cuts, and it's only quarter after eight...I can't imagine that will be it in terms of injuries for the rest of the night..._

"Aww, turn that frown upside down, Lexa. It's not so bad." She heard Anya tease from behind her, clearly having a good time at the party so far, watching everyone on edge and embarrassing themselves in ridiculous displays of aggression. She was sure the party would be one of Anya's highlights of the year, even aside from the fact that her traitorous sister had spent a good chunk of the evening with her precious Clarke Griffin.

Clarke, who had once been precious to her as well, once upon a time, before the blonde had changed schools right before grade five and effectively cut Lexa out of her life. Not that she'd taken up too much space in that life, given how shy she'd been back then, and how her crush had kept her from spending as much time as she would have liked around the girl. Lexa had felt fortunate to be wise enough to know her love was unrequited, with Clarke hovering around boys often enough, but it still stung that Anya had kept up a presence in the blonde's life over the years.

It stung that Anya could so easily go up to Clarke and just talk, as if that wasn't some monumental thing.

"I would stab myself with a tranquilizer dart if my presence here wasn't keeping my team from irreversibly maiming the Blake girl." Lexa stated flatly, turning her head to scowl at the amused smirk she knew her sister would be sporting. "The reason the party has only been a minor disaster is because Griffin's mom is a doctor and has been treating the injuries personally and sending the wounded home."

"Details, details." Anya laughed, bringing a metal jug of hot chocolate over, swirling the canister once before attempting to pour some into Lexa's empty mug. Key word being ' _attempt_ ', Lexa pulling her mug away and out of reach until Anya gave a second swirl. Not like she'd say no to hot chocolate.

It wasn't as if she was incredibly superstitious, she just had some little rituals she stuck to. Mostly, she would do things in twos, particularly things that had led to good luck in the past, which was a big reason why two was both her favourite and lucky number. Like, hitting snooze twice each morning she'd have a game, or swishing any jug or carton of liquid twice before pouring it, or fistbumping twice. And then there was how she'd crack her knuckles left to right twice before a game, text, or starting an assignment, or how she'd knock on wood twice for good luck and to avoid jinxing herself. There were some other instances, like not forsaking traditions based around fortune, but they all largely came in twos, and were usually pretty manageable, so it wasn't a big deal.

Anya, of course, liked to try and trip her up sometimes, as if her superstitions weren't incredibly serious and important. As if Anya didn't have a few of her own.

"So, are you looking forward to singing later?" Anya asked with a level of nonchalance that was immediately suspicious.

"Not particularly...because I'm _not_ singing later. Wasn't the sign-up an hour ago?" Lexa asked, feeling a rush of frustration and anger when Anya's smile just grew and grew, and god damn it! "Anya, what did you do?!"

Anya took her time in pouring herself a drink, and plopping in a few marshmallows, clearly struggling to contain her amusement if the slight shaking of her chest and shoulders were any indication. "Well, Mrs. Griffin and I got to talking, and after the snowball war only managed to get both sides more heated at each other, we came up with a plan. One word, and I know you love it, Lexa... _cooperation_."

Lexa took two steadying breaths, mentally recounting that homicide was indeed a felony, before making a second try at the truth. "What. Did. You. Do?!"

"We teamed up people from both schools, which should make you happy, groups consisting of two people, and all. And for good sport, we signed both captains in as Team Clexa...it has a nice ring to it." Anya added, barely able to get through that last bit before breaking out into laughter, likely fueled by how much she knew Lexa wanted to kill her.

Because she wanted to kill Anya. Desperately, violently, and bloody so that her sister's blood could cover up how hard she was blushing at the moment.

"This is _not_ happening, Anya!" Lexa grit out, slamming back the rest of her hot chocolate and storming out of the kitchen.

Or, she would have, had she not collided with someone right under the archway, forcing Lexa to stumble hard against the frame, hands scrabbling to keep the other person from falling. It was only when she'd caught her breath and worked past a moment of shock that she realized Clarke Griffin was in her arms, offering her a sheepish, relieved smile.

"Shit, thanks, Lexa. Are you okay? I heard yelling." Clarke asked, as if they talked all the time, as if this wasn't the first time they'd touched each other in a social setting in years. Still, the blonde's worry seemed real.

"I'm fine, Clarke. Anya did something ridiculous. I was just on my way to fix it." She managed to get out, her ability to form more elaborate sentences lost to her as she stared into bright blue eyes the colour of a warm, spring afternoon.

A small laugh bubbled up through Clarke, the girl actually smiling at her now. "I guess I can't blame you for practically sprinting out of here then, knowing how she loves pranking people." Clarke noted with another laugh, before tilting her head to the side. "You have to take it easy on your sister, sometimes, Anya. You can't terrorize her every chance you get."

Lexa shifted her focus to her older sister when she heard Anya let out a loud, uncharacteristic sigh. "Fine, fine. I'll unregister you two from karaoke if at least one of you looks up." Anya offered, confusing Lexa for the briefest of moments before her blood ran cold, suddenly now understanding what Anya had been doing fiddling around the kitchen in the first place.

Lexa barely had time to breathe, let alone form any words, before Clarke reacted. "What? Why would...oh." The blonde spoke, head tilted up, eyes locked on the mistletoe Lexa was certain hung above them with care. Anya had played a long con on her, a masterful one that would otherwise be worthy of reluctant praise if it didn't involve her and Clarke.

And now, with Clarke aware of the mistletoe, the tradition was in play, their collective fortunes were in play. Lexa's superstitions as well, obviously, which had the brunette shaking her head. _Why does two have to be my lucky number?_

"Have fun, you goobers!" Anya yelled out, escaping out the kitchen exit leading outside, though Lexa was pretty sure her sister was just rushing around to get a better angle to record her dilemma.

"So...is this one of your famous superstitions?" Clarke asked, though with less amusement than Lexa thought she'd hear from the blonde, given Anya clearly let Clarke in on her rituals.

"I take fortune very seriously, Clarke." Lexa stated in a clipped tone, wanting to express just _how_ serious it was to her, especially given the difficult situation Anya had put them in.

"So if I were to just...leave..." Clarke suggested hesitantly, enough for Lexa to tighten her grip on the blonde ever so slightly. "Or not. That's fine, too."

Clarke's flippant delivery was more than a little aggravating, and Lexa had to bite the inside of her cheek to tamp down on her annoyance. Of course Clarke would treat all of this so casually, while she was freaking out over her superstition and the fact that she was supposed to kiss the girl she'd long crushed on. To say it was unfair would be violently understating the matter.

"I would appreciate you taking this seriously, Clarke." Lexa grit out, eyes shutting in frustration, just needing to focus and try to remember the lore around mistletoes. She knew that kissing was supposed to lead to good luck, but she wasn't certain what happened to those who passed on the rite.

"Why? It's just a kiss, it's not like we haven't done that before." Clarke argued with a dismissive scoff, lips curling up in amusement that felt a lot like mockery.

"Not like this, Clarke. It's different, and you _know_ it." Lexa shot back with a bit of bite that clearly took Clarke off guard, if the blonde taking a half step back and crossing her arms was any indication.

"It doesn't have to be a big deal. You realize I've kissed like, all over your body, right?" Clarke's words brought back a lot of memories from her younger years, fond memories, but ones that weren't at all applicable to the here and now.

Lexa postured up and glared at the blonde, feeling a need for confidence, and _'fake it til you make it'_ was something she'd long since lived by in life. "We were first graders, Clarke, and we were playing doctor. I was the patient. That...that was for survival."

Clarke's gaze dropped, a hand reaching out to fiddle with the hem of Lexa's sweater. "Maybe it should be about more than just survival. Don't we deserve better than that?" Clarke asked in a hushed, passionate voice that rendered Lexa spellbound until those blue eyes lifted to meet her own.

For whatever reason, she had been given the green light, the go ahead, and Clarke was being infuriatingly cryptic enough for her to just go for it. "Maybe we do."

Lexa lifted a hand, at once cupping Clarke's cheek and drawing her closer, guiding them into a soft, tentative, explorative meeting of lips. The feeling of Clarke pressing against her, of the blonde's hand cupping her elbow, of the other gracing her hip, nearly had everything but the blonde sucked out of her mind.

Needing to fulfill her superstition, Lexa allowed the tiniest of gaps between their lips, her nose caressing Clarke's as her head tilted and came in at another angle. Only for Clarke to practically barrel into her, pushing her up against the doorframe, teeth nipping at Lexa's lower lip only to sooth it with a kiss so full of yearning that it had her breathless. Lexa let her lungs strain, let what little oxygen remained be used in a faint whimper so the blonde would have clear approval. Even if her body wasn't quite up for the task at the moment, chest pounding and head swimming is a daze, she pulled at the blonde, held her close, and met each bit of passion Clarke sent her way.

Lexa sucked in a pained breath when Clarke pulled back enough for breathing to feel both safe and permitted, eyes fluttering open to see that the blonde wasn't faring a lot better. She barely registered Clarke leading her out from under the mistletoe and down a nearby stairwell, only emerging from her haze when pale hands pushed her onto a sofa.

"I have to say, Lexa, that kiss was so much better than when you came to me with elbow cancer." Clarke teased as the blonde moved to straddle her. "And I guess a _little_ better than when you told me that freckle on your neck was from a wasp, and you needed me to make it better."

Lexa blushed at the memories of going to Clarke with a variety of illnesses. To her credit, she'd been very young, and the word 'cancer' had become synonymous with disease, so she hadn't known any better. But it'd always have Clarke feeling around with her trusty stethoscope and rubber mallet, always finishing treatment with a kiss to the affected area.

Young Lexa had been _very_ thirsty. She had long since admitted that to herself. Clarke having seen through it all, apparently, was unexpected, however. Lexa having gauged the blonde's sexuality wrong was another surprising turn as well.

"We aren't under a mistletoe anymore, Clarke." Lexa noted, unsure about a lot that was going on, even if she was enjoying it.

"And yet, I want to keep kissing you." Clarke practically purred, leaning forward and pressing lips to Lexa's ear, nibbling slightly at her lobe. "Do you know how long I've waited? I thought you hated me."

Lexa felt a sigh escape her at Clarke's glorious ministrations, and let her hands trail down the blonde's sides to cup her ass. "You left, Clarke."

"My parents _made_ me. I still tried to come over, I'd try to find you at our park. You gave me the cold shoulder, Lexa. You avoided _me_." Clarke complained quietly, nose nuzzling into Lexa's temple, and while there were a lot of things she wanted to do at the moment, none of which included rehashing their shared history, she knew it'd best be dealt with.

"I needed time to figure out what to do without you. It's not like you had any issues with that, with how much time you spent with _Finn_ afterwards." Lexa clarified, knowing in hindsight that her actions hadn't been her best, but they had been fair enough. She had put her head over her heart and attempted to move on, since she thought Clarke was.

"It was half a year before I even saw you up close again. Finn wasn't you, even if his hair was long and dark like yours." Clarke shot back, the blonde leaning far enough away to look Lexa in the eyes. "Even today, you're still an idiot about this. Lexa...I loved the hell out of you. I'd chase everyone away with my little mallet, but never you. I'd play doctor with Finn, and Raven, and Octavia, but I'd never kiss _them_. Only you."

Lexa's mouth was getting drier by the moment, and the implications of Clarke's words were piling up like skyscrapers, forming a massive, uncomfortable truth she'd somehow missed out on. To say it was a little devastating would be an understatement.

"You cut me out and avoided me because you thought you lost me, when I was still there. I waited, Lexa. I only left when you didn't come back for me. And I'd reach out every once in a while...but nothing. I thought you hated me. Irrational or not, I thought that's what it was." Clarke continued sadly, before her lips curled into a smile. "At least, until Anya kept insisting otherwise whenever I'd mope about you. I had my doubts, but she said she'd get you to come clean."

Lexa swallowed back any annoyance at her sister, because for once, her aggravating teasing and meddling had done some good. She found a memory bubbling to the surface and smiled, remembering a day late in the springtime, when they'd been caught in a torrential downpour during recess.

"I...back in grade three, that day when I carried you across that massive puddle and back into school so your rainbow socks wouldn't get wet...I'd been certain that I'd grow up and marry you." Lexa practically whispered as a deep blush raged in her cheeks over the silly memory.

"I probably would have agreed to a UHaul back then, not marriage...that would have been moving too fast. Besides, my dad still made me these really tasty sandwiches, and I don't think pre-teen me would have been able to handle the upkeep of a house, or the finances of a mortgage, or any of that." Clarke noted with a laugh, clearly having fun with her confession, though the hand tenderly grazing her cheek was enough for Lexa to know the blonde wasn't all that put off, if at all. "For what it's worth, Lexa, kissing twice was wonderful, but I think I'd need a few dates with you to make that kind of decision."

Lexa swallowed twice and wrapped her arms around the blonde, pulling Clarke closer until their foreheads were touching. She knew she was probably going to sound a little foolish and cliché, but Lexa wasn't about to ignore an opportunity when it was staring her in the face. "Clarke...will you go out with me Friday night?"

Clarke's lips twisted into a playful grin, the blonde's nose gently nuzzling Lexa's. "Why Lexa, I thought you'd never ask." Clarke whispered with a teasing grin, big blue eyes full of mirth, a happiness that Lexa wasn't sure she could understand given she'd apparently been the cause for Clarke's distance, but like hell if she wasn't going to try and make things right. "Though that still leaves the rest of tonight open. Tell me, Lexa...do you still like horror movies?"

Lexa just smiled, wondering if once again, her superstition had led her to fortune. And that maybe her luck from twos would only grow that much stronger with them together again.

Clarke pulling her in for another sweet, languid kiss more than settled any doubts.

* * *

 **A/N: Just a bit of silly holiday fluff with some child!Clexa memories tossed in.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Pairing: Clarke/Anya**

 **"i know we hate each other but it's Christmas Eve and your flight was cancelled please come inside"**  
 **Prompt via blakesmilitia tumblr post/133627477715/im-always-a-slut-for-a-christmas-au-i-know-we**

 **Modern AU, Missed Flight, Snowed In, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Holiday Fluff**

* * *

"What are you doing out here?"Anya heard called out behind her, the familiar smooth accusatory tone enough to make her blood boil if it wasn't already due to her circumstances. Dr. Clarke Griffin was an absolute menace, and Anya was a hundred percent certain that if the blonde fell off the face of the earth, the world would be better for it.

Not that the world was particularly great, given it was trying to ruin her life. All she wanted was to get home for Christmas, but no, apparently the biggest blizzard in sixty years had to pop up out of nowhere and slam her city, forcing her flight across the country to be cancelled, and leaving her stuck at a fucking street corner waiting for a cab because her car was in the shop, and she needed to find a way back down south. City buses had stopped running, but the verdict wasn't out yet on Greyhound.

"Detective Pine!" Griffin called out behind her once more, reminding her that misery loves company, and of course the fates would keep piling it on. She was already freezing cold, out of a flight home to her family, out of a vehicle, and she'd already rented her condo out to tourists for the next week, so she couldn't go back to her place, either.

 _And now I have to deal with that stubborn, foolish princess..._

She knew it was a risk when she found herself waiting outside the precinct, knowing the good doctor lived above the bakery across the street, but it seemed safe enough, with the blizzard killing just about any visibility, and with their difficult history. "Go back inside, doctor!" She yelled out in response, only looking over her shoulder when she heard the stomping of boots behind her. _Of course she's marching over here..._

"What the hell are you doing out here, detective? You've been waiting for over half an hour and you're practically frozen solid. Whoever or whatever you're waiting for, you can do that inside." Clarke argued as the blonde stomped up to her, hands on her hips as if the doctor had a right to be upset, as if Griffin had any power over her decisions.

"It's none of your business, doctor. Now go back inside." She grit out, punctuating those last few words with a prodding finger against the woman's chest. An attempt to piss the doctor off and get her to leave, but annoyingly, it just had Griffin stepping deeper into her personal space.

"Officer Blake called it a Christmas miracle when she heard you were heading out of town for a week for the holidays. I know the airport's shut down, your flight's cancelled. Cabs are hardly running, the city buses are shut down, and the bus terminal's just cancelled their runs, too. I'm not sure what you're waiting for, but you're not getting out of the city. Not tonight." Griffin continued, and Anya could only just barely stifle a curse at hearing about the bus terminal. That had been her last hope for her shitstorm of a day to turn out. Didn't help being reminded once again that she had very few friends on the force, and that an officer could prefer Griffin to her. Just didn't seem right.

"And what, exactly, do you propose I do, doctor? Give up seeing my family for Christmas?" She shot back, knowing the doctor was likely correct about them being stuck in the city for the day, but not wanting the blonde to feel smug about that. Especially not when they were practically nose to nose.

Oddly, instead of lashing back at her, the doctor just sighed in clear frustration. "Your flight's cancelled, it's Christmas Eve, there's nothing going out of the city for hours at the very least, so why don't you just come inside?" Griffin answered, not satisfying Anya's question in the least, though when she moved to speak, the doctor quickly interrupted her. "We'll pay attention to the airport and bus system to check on when things get up and running. I also have a friend, Raven, who lives outside the city, who could maybe bring you down south enough to where you could catch a bus or a flight the rest of the way, but it'd be early Christmas morning that she'd be picking you up, if she can even make it here. Hours away, so come wait inside in my place before you get hypothermia."

Anya stared hard at the blonde, not understanding where this sudden hospitality was coming from. Ever since the incident five years ago, they'd been at each other's necks. Or, well, she'd been at Griffin's a little more, and she may have literally assaulted the blonde once, so it wasn't as if they were on good terms. It wasn't as if Griffin had ever offered an olive branch in the past.

"We hate each other. What is this, some sort of joke?" Anya demanded, her fury increasing at the sight of Griffin rolling her eyes.

"Be that as it may, I have a duty to public health. You're going to freeze to death if you stay out here much longer, and we both know that Detective Tristan's over in the cop shop, and you don't hate him any less than you hate me. Let's go with the lesser of two evils here...please, come inside with me." Clarke reasoned, and perhaps there was some sense to that. As murderous as Griffin could make her feel, Tristan was the rare quality of person who could make a grown woman feel like homicide is perfectly justifiable.

Anya considered her options, as few as they were. She could stay outside and grow more and more uncomfortable as snowfall passed the current two and a half feet mark. She could head into the precinct and deal with Tristan, and risk killing him since the station was so sparsely staffed. She could head to the bakery and loiter for as long as she'd be allowed to, and go back to square one when she's kicked out. Or she could follow the doctor inside and, potentially, get some aid from the woman's friend in her travels later that night.

As much as she hated Griffin, she was the only option that provided Anya a potential solution to her problem of getting down home for Christmas.

"Fine. But don't expect me to sing carols with you or anything. This is strictly impersonal." Anya asserted, earning a scoff from the blonde, who gestured for Anya to follow her back across the street.

"You don't have to remind me. All I ask is that you behave yourself in my home." The doctor stated, which was reasonable enough. Anya was sure she could find a warm corner of the woman's house to plant herself until she could find a way out of the city. She wouldn't have to even talk to Griffin, really.

Griffin led her to the tiny covered entrance leading to the upper floors above the bakery, and up to the third floor. The building was in surprisingly decent condition, given how it looked from the outside; when Griffin opened the door to her condo, Anya had a good two seconds to appreciate that it as well was in much nicer condition than she'd expected.

It was the skittering of paws and a massive fluffy dog skidding to a halt in front of them that drew her attention away from the condo. The way the dog immediately sat back and looked up at them, and ultimately shifted focus to Anya, patiently waiting, was sort of impressive.

"Well, looks like the welcoming committee didn't waste any time. Anya, this is Jubilee." Griffin noted with a warmth she hadn't heard in the woman's voice since before the incident. The dog's ears perked up at her name, and Anya's hair practically stood up on end as Clarke took hold of her hand and offered their combined hands to her pup's nose. "Ju-Jube, this is Anya."

Anya watched the dog sniff their hands, barely a moment passing before the pup was a tail-wagging, spinning fluffy mass, practically running around Anya's legs in excitement over meeting a new person. While she may have held ill will towards Griffin, that didn't spread to the woman's dog, so when Clarke did release her hand, Anya quickly set out to kneel and pet the happy pup. "What breed is it?" She asked, taking in its dark shepherd-like features.

"A friend of mine's Belgian tervuren had puppies, and while I'm pretty sure she's not purebred, she's close enough that I just stick with that." Griffin answered with a fond look at her dog, before gesturing Anya further into the condo. "Just one more greeting, and I'll leave you to your own devices, if you'd like."

Anya's brow furrowed at the thought of more introductions, especially with the pressing desire to just find somewhere quiet to warm up. Still, she got back to her feet and, after removing her boots and hat, followed Griffin into the home and towards some slightly familiar sounds from the living room, the overgrown puppy happily trotting behind them. Anya took in the aroma of a pot roast cooking in the oven as they passed through the dining room and entered a nicely decorated living room whose floor was scattered with toys, and whose TV was playing an old Animaniacs episode.

"Ellie? Can you please pause that for a second?" Clarke asked, as they approached the back of a sofa, the TV stilling and going silent a moment later before a tiny head popped over the armrest, gazing curiously back at Griffin first, then Anya with mixed hesitance and wonder. "An...old friend from work will be here for the next little while to warm up. Anya, this is my daughter Elena. Ellie, this is Anya."

Anya bristled at the language Griffin used, even if she understood it, given the situation; it would have been confusing to introduce an enemy to the girl in any honest way. And, deep in her soul, she couldn't help but feel unnerved by the sight of the girl, who didn't look any older than four years old. _Right around the time Tris died..._

"Hello, Miss Anya." The little girl spoke with a tiny little smile, big brown eyes gazing up at her with a muted awe that she couldn't quite understand.

Anya shook memories of the past from her mind and returned the little girl's sentiment with a smile of her own. Much like the pup, she held no hard feelings for Griffin's child, as much as a surprise as the tiny girl was. "It's nice to meet you, Elena."

The little girl moved to speak before abruptly letting out a shocked gasp. "Do you like gingerbread, Miss Anya?"

"Ellie..." Clarke chided, though more than a little amusement filtered into her tone.

"But momma, I was s'posed to help Auntie Raven with hers, but she's not here, and Miss Anya is, and it's tradition to make two! We gotsta, an' it'd be super fun!" Elena argued, surprisingly articulate for her age with how often Clarke worked. Clearly, the single mother had some help.

"I know, honey, but Anya just came in out of the cold, and she needs to warm up first. And Auntie Raven will be here tomorrow, you know she was looking forward to making that house with you. Besides, Anya might not be up for making one, anyways." Clarke listed out all soft and patient. It was a far cry from how she usually interacted with the woman, Anya all aggression and 'claws out', Griffin all defensive hostility and defiant posturing. It had been years since she'd seen Griffin so unguarded.

Truth be told, it had Anya feeling a little odd, thinking it almost looked good on her. It was almost a bit of a relief. Which, obviously, was dead wrong, her hatred of the blonde more than justified, but still. She couldn't quite kill those thoughts.

"Duh, it's why I was askin' if she likes gingerbread." Elena noted sarcastically, Anya letting a laugh slip out from how unexpected the little girl's sass was, even if it shouldn't have been surprising. Clarke was more than sassy and sarcastic in her own right. "And Auntie Raven wouldn't be sad, cuz we got an extra box in case of disasters, so we could make three, and she'd like that, and I'd like that, and it'd be super special. An' we just made ours a half an hour ago, so the icing's still fresh."

Anya just flickered her gaze between the mother and daughter, unsure what to do. On one hand, she could probably find a spot in the home to camp out for the night until help potentially arrived. On the other hand, she was freezing cold, and there was a fireplace in the living room, and building a gingerbread house would at least give her something to do.

"I'm...not opposed to it, but it's your home, your call, doctor." Anya stated quietly, the chill from the cold still shivering in her bones.

Clarke gave Anya a curious look before casting her gaze back on her daughter, watching the little girl closely and clearly drawing out her decision, Elena wiggling a little in anticipation of a decision.

"Alright, then. But you're not allowed to eat the candy while you build, dinner will be ready soon. Sound good?" The doctor asked, sending her daughter into feverish nods.

"Uh huh! I'll go get the stuff!" Elena exclaimed before rushing off across the house to wherever the supplies were, Jubilee in hot pursuit, leaving her alone with Griffin again.

Anya wasn't sure what she expected, really; perhaps warning words not to upset her daughter, or not to undermine her parenting, or to keep her temper under control. A warning seemed reasonable enough given their history.

Hands resting on her shoulders, guiding her towards the fireplace, hadn't exactly crossed her mind as a possibility, even if it made some sense in hindsight. "Take off your coat. Wool doesn't do well when it's saturated with ice and snow, and it'll keep you cold for as long as you wear it." Griffin ordered her, though the usual indignation or hostility was replaced with something that sounded enough like concern to downright confuse her.

Still, she was freezing cold, and wasn't about to stay that way if she could avoid it, so she quickly stripped off the coat and offered it to the doctor. Griffin just dropped it to the carpeted floor, using her time instead to collect two throw blankets from the sofa and a recliner, along with some throw pillows. Anya watched with curiosity as Clarke arranged the pillows on the fireplace-side of the coffee table, which had clearly been used for gingerbread house decorating by the state of the plastic table cover, and gestured Anya to come over.

"Sit on these, I'll go turn up the fireplace a bit." Griffin noted, not moving from where she stood until Anya settled down onto the pillows. The detective felt reluctantly thankful when Clarke draped both blankets across her shoulders, Anya quickly clutching to them to hopefully spur on some warmth. "Elena and Ju-Jube will be back in a few to keep you company. I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything, okay?"

Anya wasn't sure what twilight zone she'd ventured into where a hint of a smile on Griffin's lips could only be for her benefit. She wasn't sure she wanted to know, because the level of hospitality was already confusing, not to mention the daughter she never knew the other blonde had. And, most certainly not mentioning the tiny, faint thoughts floating at the edges of her mind that felt Clarke looked really beautiful tonight; those, she could force out of her mind with sheer willpower, for the most part.

So she was more than a little confused, but the sight of Elena running over to her, a kit for building a gingerbread house in her arms, more or less offered her a good enough distraction from that. Especially when the little one's eyes went all wide, a mischievous smile following suit.

"I'm thinking pirates!"

* * *

Clarke had been conflicted with her decision to invite Anya into her home. Truthfully, she'd watched the woman from her window on and off for a good half hour before finally tromping down there with a mission to drag the stubborn woman indoors by whatever means necessary. It had been a calculated risk, knowing how much Anya hated her, but in the forty minutes since she'd left the woman alone in the living room with her daughter, it seemed to have paid off.

At least, judging by her daughter's laughter that filtered into the kitchen. It seemed that, at least to some extent, Anya was good with children, certainly enough to spur on her daughter's vivid imagination and keep her baby girl happy. And knowing how much of an attention suck her Jubilee was, the pup was clearly still getting enough attention in the other room for her to not feel up for visiting Clarke in the kitchen, where all the tasty food was.

It really was a relief, because it was Christmas eve dinner, and it'd be the first big girl meal she'd make for her little girl after the disaster that was last year, which left them sending Raven on a fast food run. Without distractions, dinner prep had gone off without a hitch, and while she couldn't guarantee that Anya would like to take part in it, the woman taking a plate of food would help cut down on the days of leftovers she'd be sure to have between her meal tonight. She'd already get leftovers from tomorrow's turkey dinner, she didn't necessarily look forward to days of roast beef on top of that.

Clarke triple checked that everything was ready, and that the dining room was all set, before tiptoeing to the living room doorway to spy on her child's progress with the gingerbread house. With Jubilee a little in the way, and the pup's tail wagging furiously, if was a little difficult to take in all the detail, but she couldn't help but snicker to herself at the skull and crossbones made of candy canes, gumdrops and frosting that ornamented the front of the structure.

"...and we need a cannon here! The pirates'll need to fight the Navy!" Ellie yelled out in excitement as Anya fiddled with the collection of candy and cobbled together a cannon out of licorice and the thick frosting usually used to glue the gingerbread together.

"I don't think the Navy will stand a chance against our gingerbread shanty with this. Now, where did you want to put it, again?" Anya asked, waiting for Ellie's guidance before sticking the cannon down in the shanty's front yard area, behind the peppermint swirl fortifications. It truly did look like a formidable hideout for seafaring jackals. It put a smile on her face to see her daughter having so much fun, even if it was Anya causing it. Though Clarke could admit that this Anya, the one with a cheek covered in frosting, who had tinsel in her hair and sweater, cheeks pink with laughter and amusement, this woman was very different than the severe detective she often dealt with at the hospital.

The duo looked nowhere near finished fortifying their little gingerbread shanty, which meant Clarke would have to step in and delay their progress, if just for a little bit.

"Hey, you two, sorry to put a hold on your dastardly plans, but I'm just about to put dinner out. You know the drill, kiddo." Clarke called out from the entranceway, immediately grabbing her daughter's focus and sending a smile her way.

"Gotta wash up." Ellie noted with a firm nod.

"That's right. Make sure to use your stool, okay, sweetheart?" She asked, drawing another nod from her little girl, letting her turn her focus to the detective. "Anya, would you like to join us? We have more than enough food."

Whatever sound Ellie heard, Clarke was too far away, but it had the tyke laughing and rolling her eyes at Anya's hesitation. "Her tummy's rumbling, 'course she'll stay."

At that, Clarke heard all she felt she had to, knowing her daughter wanted the woman to eat with them. So perhaps she raised her eyebrows in challenge to the woman, a gesture often used when Anya would be in her face and threatening her. Clarke found it sort of amusing that the tables were turned, Anya on her heels and in danger of doing something counter to Ellie's wishes. Seeing the woman with a deer-in-the-headlights expression was both priceless and sort of damn cute.

"If it's no trouble..." Anya let out cautiously, which was victory enough for Clarke.

"Not at all. You can wash up in the kitchen and help me set the table, then." She noted, turning on her heel and heading back into her kitchen, all involved parties having their orders. In the span of time it took Clarke to bring the roast out to the dining room table and return to the kitchen, Anya was at the sink, washing her hands and shooting Clarke a suspicious look.

"This is hardly in the interest of public health, Griffin." Anya stated lowly, quiet enough to not reach down the hall where Elena was busy washing up. "What's your angle, here?"

Clarke couldn't help but let a laugh slip out. "Didn't realize my kitchen turned into an interrogation room in the last ten seconds." She noted with another laugh, shaking her head when Anya's hard stare remained. "I made a lot of food, since I was expecting more company. I promised you shelter until things either cleared up out there, or Raven could take you down south. My daughter likes you. Take your pick."

Anya was quiet for a bit after that, and Clarke had hoped they'd finish setting the table before whatever stew of words in Anya's head spilled out, but as she placed the carrots on the table, she felt a hand gently clasp around her wrist.

"How old is Elena?" Anya asked in a low whisper, a trace of fear in her voice that told Clarke the woman had certainly spent some time thinking back on the timeline of their history together.

Not that it made Clarke feel any better, or got Anya any closer to getting off the hook. "Four years and two months."

The sharp exhale, Anya's hand vacating her wrist as if it were on fire, mumbled protests from a zoned out mind, none of it felt as good as she might have imagined back when those wounds were fresh. Back when the fear of losing her child was ever-present. It didn't make her feel stronger, it didn't make her feel justified in her anger, it didn't make her feel satisfied in whatever crushing emotional blow she'd dealt Anya that had the woman's eyes glassy and unfocused, body frozen still and taut with tension. It certainly didn't bring any relief.

No, the sound of her daughter singing off-key to Jingle-Bell Rock off in the washroom was what did that. Whatever Anya felt over her actions all those years ago, Clarke realized she didn't quite care. It didn't change anything; she gave birth, her baby girl has happy and healthy, and that was what mattered. In truth, it was Anya's persistent aggression ever since Tris Coleman's death that was the reason for her behaviour around the detective. It was hard to move on and forgive when the woman kept ripping at that old wound, clearly not having made enough progress to heal and forgive in her own right. Maybe her own hostility and defensiveness made her an easier target, and thus made it more difficult for Anya to get past, but it wasn't her job to put in the work to be cool and calm and friendly around the woman, not when Anya could be so venomous.

Still, after that evening so far, Clarke wondered if maybe easing up a bit could bring out the softer side in the woman. She honestly liked what she saw of Anya over the past while; the woman was showing she could be warm, considerate, and playful. And, while it was a little odd to feel, Anya's smile, her laughter, seeing the woman out of her work clothes, it all had Clarke a little short of breath and dealing with the kind of stress sweat under her breasts she'd get when someone sexy got her motor revving.

Not that she'd do anything about those feelings, especially after talking about how Anya had endangered Ellie's survival. But there were things about Anya she hadn't noticed before, or certainly hadn't been privy to, and she liked those things. Even if it was odd finding things to like in Anya Pine.

"I didn't know..." Anya claimed in a hoarse whisper, and it was believable, and the remorse she heard was real enough. It just didn't really matter all that much.

"I guess I stopped caring about that over the months and years of watching my daughter grow up. I could turn the fear I felt into a need to keep her safe and healthy. I got to see that effort pay off, that she was safe and healthy and happy. You weren't a threat anymore." Clarke explained as she poured some milk for Ellie, and wine for herself and Anya, before taking Ju-Jube's last cup of food for the day and pouring it in her pup's bowl.

Anya seemed to digest her words as everyone settled down at the table to eat. Clarke helped fill Ellie's plate and her own, Anya slowly getting around to filling her own, still stuck in a bit of a thoughtful daze for long minutes as they ate. Jubilee, of course, finished her bowl quickly and curled up at Clarke's feet.

It was Ellie that broke the silence. "Miss Anya, why aren't you with your family today? Is it cuz of all the snow?"

Anya's unfocused eyes slowly found their way to meeting Elena's gaze, the woman's fork having been picking away at the same carrot for the last minute. "Oh, um, yes. I had a plane ticket so I could fly down south to see my family for the holidays, but the snow storm cancelled it, and I got stuck here."

Ellie nodded along, frowning at the woman's bad luck. "They must miss you, you're a really nice lady." Ellie added with her typical warmth, her child having grown up to be wonderfully welcoming. Still, Clarke's focus was on Anya, and how pale the woman's face was, how tightly her lips were pressed together. Clarke hadn't meant to make the woman feel guilty, but that seemed to be how things were going down. "Good thing you gots me and momma and Ju-Jube until you get to see them."

Anya's shaky inhale was an incredibly odd, foreign thing to experience, and it took the woman a few long moments to compose herself, but the sad, sheepish smile Anya aimed at Ellie was pleasantly warm. Ultimately, that was more that Clarke could have hoped for.

"Thank you, Elena. And thank you both for having me, it was very kind of you." Anya spoke as amber eyes flickered her way briefly, none of the usual hesitation from how the woman would occasionally force pleasantries in her presence for the sake of the upper brass. The sincerity was a surprise, but a welcome one, and the soft smile on the woman's lips had her heart beating a little faster. Clarke hadn't brought the woman into her home in hopes of dissipating the hate Anya felt for her, but it seemed to be happening anyway, at least to some extent.

And if Clarke was honest, she really wanted to keep chipping away at it, so she was up for putting herself out there first if it meant maybe bridging the gap between them. "Our door is always open, Anya. And I know Jubilee would definitely like having one more person around to goad into W-A-L-Ks."

Anya's confused expression only became more perplexed by the second, head shaking ever so slightly from her words. "I...appreciate that, Clarke."

At that, the woman finally started working away at her dinner, while discussion shifted to Elena's theories on Christmas pirates, and the threat the Navy posed to Santa and his ability to deliver toys worldwide.

Clarke just smiled adoringly as her girl went on and on, knowing their Christmas Eve might just be a pretty great one, despite the circumstances robbing them of visits by her parents and Raven. Her working theory had been that adding Anya couldn't have made her holiday more disappointing, and she'd been more than right on that account, the woman actually helping bring happiness to her baby girl's evening.

Yeah, things weren't ideal with the holidays, or with Anya, but she knew progress when she saw it. And it looked _damn_ fine on her.

* * *

Anya may have had four glasses of wine at dinner. Smallish glasses, but four, nonetheless. Perhaps that's why the rest of the evening passed in a blur of gingerbread, candy, doggie pets, and cartoon Christmas specials, but she had a hard time finding it in herself to care when she'd been smiling for much of the time.

Both members of the Griffin family's words before and during dinner had truly and utterly fucked with her head. Here was a woman who she had loathed for years, welcoming her into her home and offering an open invitation, despite having put her daughter's life in danger long ago. And, of course, there was Ellie, blissfully unaware, and so openly caring and joyful around her, not at all knowing Anya had once put her at risk because she couldn't tame her own fury.

To say it was a sobering, humbling experience would be just scratching the surface. They'd warmed her up, fed her, welcomed her into holiday traditions, and showed her the trust of an actual friend; Anya was certain she hadn't earned any of that, and yet, there she was.

And while her history with Clarke was still fraught with anger and hatred, the younger blonde was much less a symbol representing everything that went wrong that night years ago, and more a human being of her own right, something Anya knew was the right sort of progress, even if it sometimes felt good to treat people in simpler, easier ways. It was becoming clearer that Clarke didn't really deserve that from her, especially after all this time. The younger blonde deserved a much softer touch from her, after everything, of that Anya was certain.

She sat on the sofa as Clarke had carried Ellie off to bed, the tiny blonde having gone from energetic to sleepy practically in a blink of an eye a little after nine o'clock. Jubilee was splayed out beside her, head resting on her lap, clearly content to accept all the attention and pets Anya could offer. At the start of the day, she'd been hoping to get down home and spend a nice evening with Indra, Gus, and her cousin Lexa. She'd still prefer it, all things considered, but the Griffin trio had lessened the blow that the blizzard had caused; in all honesty, she'd enjoyed herself in their company.

And maybe it was the wine, but Clarke was just a lot prettier than she remembered her being. Maybe it was the fact that Clarke had her hair down all the way, in these shiny blonde waves. Or maybe it was how the woman smiled like nothing was wrong in the world.

Anya heard Clarke pad her way down the hall and into the kitchen behind her, light tinkling sounds signaling that more wine was probably on the way. Which, well, could be either great, or make her disastrously vocal.

"I got a hold of Raven...she thinks she'll be able to get here for maybe two o'clock?" Clarke stated, setting out the wine and two glasses as Jubilee got off the sofa and settled down at Anya's feet. This, of course, left enough room for the blonde to plop right down beside her. "Reagan, Dulles, Richmond and Baltimore are all snowed in, but she's got a friend working the strip down in Norfolk, and thinks that planes will be running out of there by six at the latest since things are starting to ease up. She's willing to drive you down there, if you're up for it. American Airlines have a flight out to Savannah at quarter to six, I think you'd be able to catch it, and you'd get into town at nine-ish, probably a bit later if there are delays."

Anya couldn't help that her mouth was gaping, or that her eyebrows were doing their best to unite in the middle of her face, with how utterly perplexed she was at what she heard. First off, she had no clue who this Raven person even was, let alone why the woman would volunteer to drive her three and a half hours in snowy conditions down to Norfolk in the wee hours of Christmas morning. Especially since it'd mean the woman would have to drive three and a half back, all on top of however long it took the woman to get to D.C. in the first place.

"Who exactly is Raven, and why would she do this for me?" Anya asked, deciding to be candid, because she really didn't want any beating around the bush. She wasn't sure she could handle it.

Clarke took on a bit of a disbelieving expression, but held her gaze. "Raven Reyes? Officer Octavia Blake's fiancée? Girl genius working down in Quantico?" Clarke listed out, and okay, perhaps she should have been aware that Officer Blake was engaged, and to whom. Still, she and Blake weren't on the best of terms, even if there was some minor respect there. "Anyways, she's like a sister to me, and I called in a favour."

Again, Anya couldn't help but feel a little flabbergasted, because as astonishingly confusing as Clarke's behaviour had been all night, the woman calling in a favour for her was a whole other matter. Griffin doing whatever she could to get Anya down to Georgia in time for Christmas? That maybe warmed her heart a hell of a lot. "You're calling in a favour to help _me_." Anya stated slowly, trying the words out for size as she attempted to wrap her head around the situation.

"Well, that, and you're going to give her the bottle of scotch I set aside for her birthday in late January. As a thank you gift and all, which I know she'll appreciate. You pay me back for that, and agree that you owe me a favour in the future, and we're good." Clarke explained, and while it made a bit more sense now, it still resulted in Clarke calling in a favour, and asking Anya for one of her own sometime in the future. It still meant that they'd make another deal on friendly terms, and that Clarke was comfortable relying on her for something.

"I don't think I understand you anymore." Anya griped, more to herself than anything, knowing it was her confusion and frustration talking.

"I don't think you understood me at all, to be fair." Clarke stated, swallowing hard before pouring a glass of wine and taking a long sip. "I was the doctor who couldn't save your little cousin. I don't think it went past that for you."

Anya let the accusation wash over her; after tonight, Clarke had deserved at least some clear consideration of her words, and Anya put in that effort. And as her mind pulled at the threads tied to Doctor Clarke Griffin, they all seemed to take root in that night. "Every time I showed up in the hospital, you'd be cold to me." She shot back, albeit weakly, knowing when those words left her that she was grasping at straws. She certainly couldn't blame the blonde for her reaction, especially knowing what she knew now.

"To my credit, Anya, you punched me in the stomach hard, twice, while I was pregnant. You tackled me into a gurney, and you punched me in the face...well, I don't know how many times, really. And then you had the gall to glare at me every time you saw me, you'd snipe at me with insults, as if it was my fault you'd been suspended. And honestly, you were lucky to get away with just that." Clarke spoke lowly before taking another long sip. Put simply like that, it was hard to hear, and even harder to understand why the blonde had ever made the decision to invite her inside.

"I'm aware I made a lot of mistakes that night, mistakes I have to atone for. It's just...she was family, Clarke. Losing her...it destroyed me." Anya admitted, taking a sip from her own glass of wine, knowing it was a risk, but damn it, she really did need a drink.

"I know, and it breaks my heart...the fear I felt for Ellie when I was pregnant, the love I have for my family, for Raven, it wasn't hard to imagine falling apart if that happened to one of them." Clarke stressed, reaching a hand out and gently resting it on Anya's, a type of contact that she had never experienced from the woman. No, when Clarke had come out of surgery to break the news, she'd met the woman's apologies with her fists. If only she'd allowed the woman's comfort. "It was my second day as a real doctor, I'd just finished my residency. She was the first person who died on my table. It took me months to accept that it was a miracle that she'd even made it to me with the wounds she had, and that I couldn't have saved her. That the situation was at fault, the people who shot her."

Anya's head ducked at the woman's words, familiar guilt tearing at her insides. "I'd gotten a tip by a CI. Most of it was good, but...well, you saw what went wrong." Anya clarified, deciding to fuck it and finish off her glass, letting her buzz get a bit stronger.

"Hey, hey..." Clarke let out, prodding at Anya's hand, though Anya really just wasn't in the mood for any sympathy. It wasn't often when she'd let herself recognize her part in Tris' death, and that cowardice deserved no soothing. It was only Clarke's hand leaving her own, and finding Anya's cheek, that had the detective reluctantly meeting the younger woman's gaze. "You didn't pull the trigger. You were doing your job. This isn't on you, okay?"

"Clarke, I...after all I did, how..."Anya started, her guilt starting to consume her. It didn't feel right that she was in Clarke's home, warm by her fireplace, drinking her wine, sated by her dinner. It didn't feel right to be sitting there with Clarke after all she'd done to her, treating the doctor as a symbol of her own failure and lashing out at her over it for so long. It didn't feel right for Clarke's lovely hand to be brushing her cheek with any semblance of tenderness, either.

"You're here, aren't you?" Clarke interjected, the woman taking a sip from her wine glass before placing the near-empty glass back on the coffee table. "I didn't bring you into my house to...well, heal whatever was between us. That wasn't anything I planned to do, but it's been happening all night."

"An apology doesn't erase the last few years, Clarke. It doesn't change what happened." Anya asserted, not comfortable with the idea of forgiving and forgetting that Griffin seemed to be insinuating.

"Of course not, but my work's taught me that I never know who's going to be in my life tomorrow. Life is too short to hold grudges, so just...I forgive you for hurting me the night Tris died, Anya. I forgive you for putting Ellie in danger. And this shit between us...I don't want to deal with it anymore. I'd rather know the Anya I've seen tonight, so are you going to be raining hell down on me again, when you're back from holidays? Or can we be good?" Clarke asked, offering a clear olive branch to her. One Anya didn't feel worthy of, but damn if she didn't want to stop being so angry all the time. She didn't want to hold on to the pain of Tris' death anymore, even though she knew it'd keep haunting her anyways.

Anya swallowed hard and let herself lean into Clarke's hand just a little bit. "I want to, Clarke. But I don't know how."

Clarke's thumb grazed along her cheek, and Anya's eyes fluttered closed from the sweet sensation. "Let me help you through it, then." Anya heard the blonde murmur, hearing the slight creak of the sofa moment later, feeling the gentle breathing of the blonde wash against her lips. "Let me show you you're not that woman anymore."

Anya felt a nose graze against her own, Clarke's free hand skimming along her side to clasp against her hip, wavy locks of hair tickling her cheeks. It was all too much teasing, she'd never been very good at toeing the line, so before she could mentally brace herself for the whole swath of potential outcomes, she leaned her head forward that half an inch and pressed her lips to Clarke's.

Once she felt that gentle pressure, once she heard that faint, relieved sigh, Anya went to work, wanting to mirror the blonde's tenderness with her own, wanting to show Clarke that she could be slow and intimate instead of just offering brash hostility.

That maybe she could be something else to Clarke. That maybe that would be enough to make things work out between them, even if this particular element just lasted for one night.

Clarke's head tilted off to the side after who knows how long, the younger woman straining for oxygen, but not too busy to keep from nuzzling Anya's cheek in the process. "God, you really have to get back here on New Year's Eve."

"Oh?" Anya let out, taking in a few long breaths through her nose to be a bit more discreet in how affected she was at the moment. Griffin could _kiss_.

"If I have to call in my favour to RSVP those lips at midnight, I will." Clarke noted with a laugh, letting herself lean a little more against Anya, which she really took zero issue with. Not when it had more of that gorgeous woman in her arms. "Not saying we don't have things to work out, but damn, woman."

Anya allowed herself a laugh as the heart Clarke had spent all night warming up pumped relief through her veins. She wanted to have those difficult talks. She wanted to heal from her past. She wanted Clarke's help through it all. And she also really just wanted to keep kissing Griffin for as long as she could.

"We have a few hours until Raven gets here. Why don't we make the most of them?" Anya asked with a wry grin, letting her eyes flutter open to take in the doctor's beauty once again, a sense of wonder flowing through her at the blatant yearning in Clarke's eyes. "We've got a nice couch, a warm fireplace, we're both pleasantly buzzed. I want to kiss you until Raven arrives."

"Only if you let me touch your butt." Clarke noted as teeth gnawed on a slightly swollen lower lip, only making Anya want to explore Griffin's mouth more.

Anya smiled brightly at that and took hold of Clarke's hand at her side. "Your negotiation skills need work, Clarke. Perhaps you can call in your favour for lessons instead."

She hadn't meant to send Clarke spiraling into a giggle-fit, but like hell if it wasn't endearing to watch, a blurted laugh leaving the woman when Anya guided Clarke's hand to her ass. Clarke pursed her lips, giggles coming out in amused little hums before the younger woman drew Anya in for a quick, chaste kiss.

"Until Raven, then."

* * *

 **A/N: Welp, I wrote this mostly while watching Christmas specials and movies with family, so if it feels a little off, that might be why. I wasn't entirely focused during my writing, and I found myself late in the fic not really knowing how I got there, or exactly how I'd end it (though I had a decent set of ideas). I might have held onto this for a while longer to fine-tune it, but I wanted to release it for Christmas.**

 **Anywho, I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Pairing: Clarke/Lexa**

 **Anya promised that Lexa wouldn't have any more strays falling asleep in her bedroom during parties. She promised.**  
 **So why is Clarke Griffin asleep in her bed? And why is Anya threatening to flay Lincoln?**

 **Fluff/That Slept-in-the-same-bed trope that I can't recall the name of**

* * *

It was quarter to nine when Lexa's roommate Anya had announced that her friend, Clarke, The Cutest GirlTM, might be stopping by their house party that night. Thankfully, the girl had been offered Anya's room if the blonde decided to crash for the night, given Lexa could not possibly handle her roommate shoving random guests into her bedroom yet again, especially one like Clarke.

It only took a half hour for Lexa to realize that Anya's party was going to be a hot mess, possibly the hottest mess of the summer. It took an hour for her to find herself caught in the midst of an impromptu group dance battle that had far too many pelvises thrust against her. It took two hours for her to realize that with all the people coming and going, most bringing alcohol of some kind, that there must have been well over a hundred litres of alcohol servicing the crowds, more than enough for a few dozen cases of alcohol poisoning. It took three hours for Lexa to realize that Anya's invitation to The Cutest GirlTM had been accepted, that said girl was very busy doing body shots off of Anya, and that Lexa just could not handle watching that without her face exploding from the exponentially increased blood flow to her cheeks.

From there on out, the ridiculous party that had Lexa more than flustered and annoyed was just not really anything she was in the mood for. It was a little after one o'clock when Lexa left to spend a while at the local diner, her newest book and a slice of pie being a good enough option for passing the time.

It was a little after four o'clock when Lexa returned to the party, recognizing it had slowed to a crawl since she'd left. Music was still playing a little too loudly, and there were still a dozen or so people in their rental home, but Lexa knew she could sleep through it. She made her way upstairs to her room, smiling as she pushed open the door.

Only to barely stifle a gasp at the sight of someone clearly passed out in her bed. Thankfully, it was just one person, but Lexa could feel her annoyance peaking, recalling Anya's promise that Lexa's bedroom would no longer be where her roommate would funnel all the 'strays' into anymore. A part of Lexa believed that Anya just liked having someone she knew nearby on party nights, given she'd always end up sleeping in Anya's bed instead of her own, but that warm little thought couldn't outweigh all the material damage and invasion of privacy she'd endured from her roommate's antics in the past.

It was only when Lexa found herself beside the bed to wake the sleeping stranger that she realized exactly who it was, which in turn had her legs carrying her swiftly out of the room in search of Anya.

Who, thankfully, wasn't difficult to find, the woman pounding on her own bedroom door down the hallway. "Lincoln Pine, I will FLAY YOU if you don't pull out of your girlfriend this instant and get the hell out of my bedroom! You have exactly one fucking minute before I come in there and throw you out my window!" Anya practically roared, and while the threat was a bit dramatic, Lexa had little doubt that Anya could make good on it. Her roommate was a pretty amazing person, but she could be terrifying.

Still, despite her roommate's murderous mood, she needed some damn answers. "Anya! Why is Clarke sleeping in my bed?" She called out as she neared her roommate, her pace slowing as she noticed for the first time that her trusty 'Raccoon Crossing' sign Anya had given her two years ago was hanging on her roommate's door.

Anya shook with rage for a few moments, eyes still locked onto the bedroom door, before relaxing slightly and shifting her gaze to Lexa. "I told you I'd fix the bedsurfing problem. Everyone knew that the room with your sign on it was off limits, but _some people_..." Anya started, before casting another furious scowl at the bedroom door. "...decided to just fuck like rabbits in my room, and it's going to stink like a brothel for a week, I'm certain."

Lexa nodded slowly, unsure how that answered her question, because the sign was clearly on Anya's door now. "And...why is my sign on your door, now?"

"Well, the party started dying off around two-thirty, so I swapped the signs so people would stop fucking in my room. It pretty much worked, but LINCOLN FUCKING PINE had to lock himself in my room with his arm candy and DEFILE MY BED!" Anya explained, making her disdain of Lincoln known with the occasional yelling. "Clarke's drunk, she was supposed to crash in my room, but Lincoln's been in here. She thought your room was my room, and she passed out before I could correct her. For what it's worth, I'll make it up to you."

Lexa shook her head, understanding Anya's frustration over it all. Lexa had been lucky that only a few drunks had defiled her bed without permission over the years, but it wasn't anything she could so easily brush off, and she didn't expect Anya to, either. The fact that Lincoln had ignored Anya's direct requests and remained holed up in there with Octavia was a situation that would have infuriated her had the tables been turned.

"Don't worry about it. Good luck with Lincoln...just remember that we keep the good knives in the drawer, Anya." Lexa noted with a tired wave, turning to head back to her room.

It wasn't a big deal, not at all. She would just have to survive a night with Clarke Griffin in her bed. Not particularly world destroying. Though, as she entered her room and locked the door behind her, a sense of dread fell over her, unsure how exactly to handle the situation.

It wasn't like she hadn't interacted with Clarke dozens of times well enough. They could even be considered acquaintances, and Clarke was always kind to her, but having the girl she'd been crushing on over the past year splayed out across her entire bed would make finding a small sleeping space of her own difficult.

Carefully and cautiously, Lexa changed out of her clothes and into some shorts and a tank top, the summer heat more than strong enough to make sleep difficult enough as it was. Once she was ready for bed, she surveyed the remaining areas of the mattress and squeezed into a small portion on the left side of the bed. Fortunately, she wasn't the kind of move much while she slept; so long as the blonde remained where she was, Lexa was pretty sure that they'd be totally fine.

And that wasn't a problem at all, as she pulled at the covers as turned onto her left side, the only side she could consistently sleep on. It definitely wasn't a problem that Clarke's face was less than a foot away, the blonde appearing so serene and cute. It wasn't a problem, just a bit unfair.

It also wasn't fair that Clarke's jasmine vanilla body spray was as wonderfully noticeable still, despite the hours of partying. It was hard enough knowing that Clarke was there when she closed her eyes; it was more difficult to ignore when she couldn't help but take in that alluring scent with every breath.

Still, Clarke was way too cute and calm for her to possibly consider kicking the blonde out of her bed. She'd sleep restlessly if it meant the girl wouldn't have to wake up and find somewhere new and potentially dangerous to sleep. After all, Lexa could hear Anya threatening Lincoln with knives from down the hall.

Lexa let out a tired sigh and tried her best to focus on her book, wondering what direction it might head in next chapter. As tried and true a method as any, Lexa was sound asleep in minutes.

* * *

Lexa woke to an unusually heavy weight pressing down on her, a tremendous warmth, and a tickling itch against her nose. As per usual, the itch took priority, Lexa's nearest hand swatting away the locks of hair that had managed to graze against her nostrils. She peeked an eye open and came to a swift assessment of the situation.

The good news was that she hadn't had alcohol the previous night, so she wasn't going to have to deal with a hangover. The bad news was that the sun had risen, so there was no chance she'd be falling back to sleep, her body was stubborn that way. It was when her eyes glanced towards her door, only to catch a head of blonde hair nestled against her chest, that Lexa became aware of the 'potentially awesome or catastrophic' news.

Clarke Griffin was lying on top of her. Somehow. Lexa wasn't sure how the blonde had managed to get onto her without either of them waking up.

Her mind blitzed through all the potential ways to handle the situation before it settled on a simple, and hopefully effective one. With a cautious hand, Lexa reached out and lightly shook the blonde. "Clarke...wake up, it's morning." She whispered, trying her best to ignore the pale arms wrapped around her hips, or how her words made the blonde nuzzle her breasts. No matter how blissful any of it felt, she had to remain detached; she wasn't dating Clarke, or anything, after all.

Seconds passed without any more movement, so Lexa once again lightly shook the girl, speaking a little louder this time. "Clarke, wake up. It's morning."

Murmured noises of discontent left the blonde in a jumble of slurred syllables as Clarke burrowed deeper into Lexa's breasts. Which, as wonderful as that felt, Lexa knew Clarke wouldn't want to be in that situation if she was awake and aware.

And so began the prodding, Lexa freeing an arm to gently prod the blonde, moving to light shaking after about a minute of zero results on that front. Apparently, Clarke was a deep sleeper, but a half minute of gently shaking the girl seemed to be drawing Clarke from her slumber.

"Clarke...?" Lexa called out, prompting those sky blue eyes to flutter open into a tired squint. The girl's unfocused gaze flickered across her face, the tiny pout on Clarke's lips from being woken slowly growing into a smile that was, if not as bright as the sun, certainly as warming to Lexa's soul.

Lexa's heart thundered within her ribs as Clarke's smile held, those tired eyes slipping shut once more as the blonde cuddled back into her breasts. "Oh, hi, Lexa." The girl noted warmly, one hand dipping beneath her top and lightly caressing Lexa's abs.

She couldn't entirely contain the gasp at the feeling, her muscles twitching beneath her bedmate's touch. "Clarke, it's morning, we..." Lexa swallowed hard as Clarke's fingernail trailed across her stomach, needing a moment to steady herself and find the ability to speak again. "...we need to wake up."

"Mmh." Clarke hummed disapprovingly, removing a hand around Lexa's waist temporarily to pull the covers over them both.

"Clarke!" Lexa whispered harshly, knowing that if she didn't catch the blonde now and fully awaken her, it could be a long time until her bedmate woke again. And Lexa did not have the endless willpower necessary to handle that. She was trying to be respectful, and honourable, and hospitable.

Clarke? Clarke was being difficult.

Still, her outburst caught the girl's attention, Clarke's head lifting from her breasts with a heavy pout on her lips. "What, Lexa?"

"It's time to get up. It's morning." Lexa repeated, prompting the blonde to lift her head a little more and blearily look around the room, eventually hazily focusing on her alarm clock.

"Lexa, it's not even nine-thirty. We can spare a few more minutes." Clarke grumped, flopping her head back down onto Lexa's breasts with a huff. "'Sides, you're comfy and warm an' pretty." The girl finished, mumbling into Lexa's top, wrapping pale arms a little tighter around her.

 _Oh, no...she's not allowed to say things like that, is she?_ Lexa mused with a groan as she ran a hand down her face in frustration. There was no way Clarke would be flirting with her if she was awake, Lexa was pretty dang sure of that much. "Oh my god, I can't be here..." She muttered to herself, praying for the strength to shuffle Clarke off of her body so that she could leave before disaster struck.

"If you want to get up, you gotta make me a deal." Clarke grumbled, her hold on Lexa only growing tighter, a sign that the blonde really wasn't happy with the idea of letting go of the human body pillow she was resting on.

"You..." Lexa started, before biting down on her words, unsure whether to actually bargain with Clarke. After all, how could she take the word of someone who could be too half-asleep to consent? Still, she didn't exactly have any other option except throwing the blonde off of her, and she both lacked the willpower and rudeness to do that. "You want me to bargain with you?"

Clarke just hummed happily in affirmation, nuzzling once more into Lexa's chest as she got comfy.

"Well...I could make you breakfast? I remember you liked the blueberry frozen waffles Anya keeps in the freezer, but I could make some homemade ones from scratch?" She proposed to the yawning blonde nestled against her, hoping the prospect of food could maybe stir Clarke enough to wake.

"Hmmmmm..." Clarke hummed thoughtfully, slowly fading off into silence as the blonde seemed to consider her offer seriously. Seconds ticked by as Lexa waited in anticipation. Clarke let out another yawn and shifted a bit up Lexa's body, instead. "Nope. Now...my coun'eroffer."

Clarke's head lifted enough to stretch up and press soft lips to Lexa's collarbone, the gentlest lingering pressure melting her alive as her heartbeat stilled in shock, as the oxygen died in her lungs. In all honesty, she wasn't sure whether to be overjoyed at the blonde's affections, or to be deeply embarrassed at being thwarted by a half-asleep, hung over Clarke Griffin.

Her eyes darted around the room to find some answer to her predicament, but there wasn't any. She was entering dangerous territory, her body was already heating up, and she knew another kiss could very well have something even more embarrassing leaving her mouth. With that in mind, she swallowed hard and focused on the girl atop her, who was shifting back to rest her head on Lexa's chest again.

"Clarke...what would it take to get the both of us up right now?" It was a simple enough question, one she desperately hoped the blonde would have an answer to.

Lexa felt Clarke's giggle against her chest more than she heard it. "Promise we can sleep for another thirty minutes."

Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes with Clarke Griffin laying atop her, snuggling down into her, being entirely too adorable for her own good, and certainly for anyone who had drank so much the night prior. She couldn't help but let out a sigh and roll her eyes at the struggle she was faced with. "Clarke...seriously, what'll it take?"

Suddenly, the body atop her was shifting, Clarke moving to crawl up Lexa's body until Clarke was peering blearily down at her, messy blonde waves curtaining their faces. "Lexa, we were up 'til late. It's Sunday morning, on a long weekend, in the middle of summer. I know Anya told me you don't work 'til tonight, so we can sleep in." Clarke argued, making some very reasonable points, a bit of a surprise given how close the blonde looked to zonking out. Her point seemingly made, Clarke let out a whine and flopped back down, burying her face in Lexa's neck. "Just lemme sleeeep..."

Lexa felt her mouth twist to the side a bit as she peered down at the overtired blonde resting against her. It was true that, outside of Lexa's own personal concerns and inability to fall back asleep, there really wasn't any rush to get up. It was also true that she didn't have to work until that evening, and it was a long weekend anyways, so it was more accurate to say they could sleep in until well past noon if they chose to. And perhaps most importantly, they had been up late, and chances are, Clarke hadn't been asleep for long by the time Lexa got back at a little past four, meaning neither of them got much more than five hours of sleep each.

Could she really deny Clarke some much needed sleep over her own issues? That really didn't seem fair, given the blonde hadn't meant to sleep in her bed.

"Okay, then, you can have twenty minutes more." Lexa conceded, fighting a grin when Clarke's sleepy face popped up from her neck, tired eyes full of relief.

Lexa expected some sassy remark, perhaps a bright smile. Her mind was just barely able to put the pieces together over what was happening when Clarke leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

It had blood rushing to her cheeks faster than a roaring river amidst the spring thaw, eyes widening almost painfully even as her own lips moved against Clarke's for that briefest of embraces. If Lexa wasn't fully awake before, she was definitely a hundred percent alert.

And, judging by how the blonde reeled back with a strained gasp, a hand shooting up to cover those lips that had just moments ago graced Lexa's own? Clarke was finally awake as well.

Which brought about its own pros and cons. The good being that Lexa could probably easily convince Clarke to get up for breakfast now. The bad being that Clarke likely would feel too embarrassed to stay for breakfast, that Clarke would likely be weirded out by her forever now, and that Lexa wouldn't be getting kissed again by the blonde any time soon.

The cons definitely won out in that exchange, and Lexa couldn't help but try to salvage some semblance of positivity. "Well, um...if you still want to rest for another twenty minutes, you may, Clarke." The blonde's eyes averted to the window at Lexa's words, teeth gnawing hard on that kissable lower lip. "I would...well, despite your aggressive desire to sleep in, I have enjoyed your company, Clarke. And I did make you a deal."

Clarke's gaze remained fixed to the window for long seconds before they shifted back to Lexa, entirely sober, and rimmed with clear exhaustion. Lexa offered a silent nod, and what she hoped was a reassuring smile. Thankfully, it seemed to be enough for Clarke to shut her eyes, let out an arduous sigh, and flop back down onto her, face buried in Lexa's neck once more. "Ugh, I'm so embarrassing. I'm sorry, Lexa."

The actual remorse in Clarke's voice had laughter bubbling out of her, as if the blonde's minor annoyances could have ever really registered as a true grievance. "Don't be. Though you were a little frustrating, you did keep me amused."

"I'm not sure how me getting handsy is amusing. When I'm sleepy I get that way...I'll just want to stay warm and stay asleep." Clarke defended, clearly feeling guilt over her sleep-deprived self's actions.

"If I had a problem with you touching me, I would have stopped you, Clarke. Don't be so hard on yourself, I knew you were half-asleep at best." Lexa added, which at least had the blonde feeling a little less tense atop her, the tight grip around her waist receding in intensity a tiny bit.

"I've been wrapped around you like a monkey. And...god, I was touching you, and...kissing you..." Clarke breathed out against her neck in frustration, nose grazing skin as the blonde shook her head in apparent disbelief.

"If I did not want to be touched, I would have stopped it." Lexa insisted softly, blushing at the words once she realized how forward they seemed. How potentially creepy they sounded. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable rebuke.

Clarke was silent and still for seconds stretching into minutes, and Lexa could feel the sweat starting to build atop her forehead in anticipation of the let down. "You're serious?"

Biting the proverbial bullet, Lexa nodded. "I wouldn't lie to you."

Clarke didn't shift from her position, didn't move to speak or lift her head. The girl's left hand, though, started shifting a bit, before smoothly sliding back under Lexa's top to graze dull fingernails across her abs. "So you...liked this?" The words came out slow, cautious, as if waiting for some kind of rejection of backlash, as preposterous as such a notion might be.

With Clarke's head still nestled in her neck, she knew she'd have to speak, even though the words were lodged in her throat, wondering if this was real, worrying that the proverbial rug would be pulled out for under her at any moment. "Yes, Clarke."

"And...this?" The blonde asked, head shifting slightly away from Lexa's neck to press those soft lips against her collarbone again, drawing a brief moan from her lips. Which was more than a little embarrassing, forcing her eyes shut, teeth grinding into her top lip anxiously for being so vocal. For losing control for the briefest of moments.

"Mmmmh. Well, now that that's settled, I think I'll take your offer of another forty minutes, Lexa." Clarke added, Lexa not needing to see the blonde to know the girl was smiling, which was about as much of a relief as she'd felt in a very long time. Enough to decide to ignore that Clarke doubled the time Lexa had tried to negotiate for.

Surely, she could afford the blonde that much when Clarke seemed to like her in return. "Fine. But you'll be helping with breakfast." Lexa noted, letting out a defeated sigh that she'd have to remain in bed for so long. There were things to do.

Still, as Clarke cuddled back down against her, head once more on her chest, Lexa let herself hold the blonde. And maybe, out of all the things she could do that day, of all the things she'd planned to accomplish, that happy surprise of holding the sleepy girl she had a crush on was the best of them.

* * *

 **A/N: This was some mindless fluff I churned out today. I had a two and a half hour time window to write and edit this, so apologies if it's not up to task, but I wanted to challenge myself. Lately I've been proing over each detail in the stuff I've written, it's been a long time since I've let myself just write and adapt as i went along, only fixing spelling and grammar at the end.**

 **Hope you enjoyed!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Pairing: Clarke/Lexa**

 **Prompt: "Can you do a clexa one shot? Where one of them got turned into a frog so the other is taking the frog to bars trying to find true love for her friend and in the end it ends up being each other?"**

 **Fluff, Magical AU**

* * *

"I promise this is gonna be the one, Lexa. I promised you I'd fix this, and I will, okay?" Clarke repeated for the fifth time that night since her best friend's mishap earlier that day.

 _Or, well, maybe not a mishap...more like a catastrophe, really..._ Clarke thought to herself as she pulled up to the last pub in the greater Polis area she hadn't tried, Arkadia. There was nothing else for over an hour in any direction, and she'd been to every bar or pub or social gathering space she could find since Lexa had been transformed into a frog.

In truth, she didn't blame her best friend for getting angry enough to curse out Nia. For someone so much older than them, Nia lacked any sense of maturity or kindness, and while the woman held the nickname of the Ice Queen, her magical specialty wasn't elemental.

No, Nia specialized in transmogrification and curses, and when Lexa had apparently took the bait and lashed out at Nia insulting Costia yet again, the woman had literally cursed her. Again, she didn't blame Lexa for her reaction, it wasn't right to speak ill of the dead and or mock another person's loss. Clarke was a hundred percent sure she'd devise some scheme with Lexa to get retribution when this situation was all over, but for now, she had a True LoveTM to find.

 _As if that's not a bitter pill to swallow..._ Clarke mused, knowing Lexa's history with Costia, how the two had been inseparable up until Costia's untimely death. By the logic of magic, a curse could not be cast if it did not have a way to be lifted, so even if Clarke was sure that Costia had been 'the one' for her best friend, there literally had to be someone else who qualified, or Lexa wouldn't be a frog. Which had to hurt, knowing how Lexa felt about Costia, how Nia had dealt one last blow to the girl.

A frog that somehow managed to hold that same sad poise Lexa was known for. _How she manages to look all composed and calm in frog-form, I have no idea...I just hope I can find the girl who...who, I guess, will complete her enough to turn her back._ Clarke prayed, staring hard at the pub in front of her as she mustered the courage and composure she'd no matter the outcome. She couldn't stomach the thought of leaving the building unsuccessful, she had to free her best friend from the curse, Lexa deserved that much. _But is it wrong that I've felt a little relief so far? I mean...none of the girls who kissed her tonight were near good enough for her._

Clarke pushed back those errant feelings and reaffirmed her beliefs that she would find someone worthy of Lexa in this place. She would get her best friend back. And Lexa would have someone to make her happy. Happier than she, as her best friend, could make Lexa, at least.

Fully braced for whatever would happen, Clarke scooped Lexa up and marched into Arkadia, cerulean eyes scanning the room for potential solutions. Sadly, the place wasn't very packed for a Thursday night. She vaguely recognized a small group of folks from her school off in the corner, and there were a few other options hanging around the bar, but with maybe a dozen and a half people total in the establishment, it wasn't looking good.

Biting the bullet, Clarke made her way to the bar and hailed the bartender, a lanky blonde with kind eyes. The woman was definitely older by a few years, but Clarke wasn't dissuaded, knowing some people ended up with partners much older or younger than they were. Love was love.

"Hey, love, what can I get you?" The woman asked, barely sparing Lexa a glance before shooting Clarke an honestly disarming smile. It was almost blush-worthy, which was good, because as much as Lexa denied it, her best friend loved being flirted with and brought to a blush.

"Can I get...whatever your best whiskey is?" Clarke asked, deciding that since this was basically the end of the line for her search tonight, and since her apartment wasn't far away, she could finally have some liquid relief.

The bartender's lips curled up into a sly grin, eyes narrowing in interest. "Had a long night, have we?"

Clarke allowed herself a heavy nod at that as the woman served her request and slid a tumbler across the bar to her. "You can say that. My best friend was cursed, and I've been searching for someone who can break it since about noon today."

The bartender's eyes shifted down to peer at Lexa again, holding there thoughtfully for a few long seconds before lifting to meet Clarke's gaze. "Transmogrification _and_ a curse? Shitty deal. Come here looking for some random dudes, I take it?"

"Well, she's a lesbian, so women, actually. Which kind of makes it harder...most of the women I've asked today wouldn't even give it a try. Like...Lexa's different. She's a catch, they'd _be_ so lucky if they were her true love or soul mate, or whatever." Clarke explained with a sigh, slumping a bit onto the bar as she took a sip of her drink.

The bartender leaned up against the bar and gave Lexa another look over before shooting shaking her head. "Well, how could I refuse you your noble gesture? If it could help, I'll kiss her...maybe she'll change my mind on you being the prettiest woman to walk in here tonight?"

Excited at the prospect of her best friend returning to normal, and a little flattered at the compliment, Clarke shot the bartender a smile and lifted Lexa towards her. The other blonde hesitated for just a moment before leaning down and pressing her lips to the frog.

Clarke waited one, two, three seconds before slumping back onto her stool with a frown. "Crap. It would have been good, you two. I had a feeling you'd be the one, but..." Clarke started before letting out a defeated sigh and casting her eyes around the pub again as she downed the rest of her drink, figuring this would be a longer night than she'd hoped. "I appreciate the effort, anyway. Thanks..."

"...Niylah. I'm sorry I couldn't cure your friend." Niylah noted with a small shrug, taking Clarke's glass and pouring her another one. "On the house. I hope you have better luck with the rest of the crew here."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." Clarke let out with a smile of her own as she took her drink, slipped off her stool, and made her way over to the group off in the corner of the pub, eyes widening as she spotted a familiar face. "Raven? What are you doing all the way over here?"

Her mechanic friend's head popped up from the table it'd been resting on, bleary eyes immediately shooting her way. Clearly, Raven had been drinking for a while, though it didn't cause a delay in the girl recognizing who she was. "Clarke! Heyyy! Gina, babe, can you scooch over a bit so she can sit?"

Clarke smiled at the couple, immediately remembering Gna had mentioned being a bartender months ago. _Maybe she works here, and she's just not on shift..._ Clarke considered, smiling at the thought of Raven traveling all the way across town to her girlfriend's bar to hang out when Raven lived next door to one already. Though, as much as she loved Raven, she couldn't help but wonder how Gina put up with the mechanic's antics. Gina just rolled her eyes as usual and shifted over, making room for Clarke in the booth, letting her take a seat amidst the group. She recognized a few others in a general sense, knowing one of them as Monty while the other two's names eluded her.

"Nate, Harper, Monty, meet Clarke Griffin, the girl who saved my ass two years ago at that triathlon by being an impromptu field medic for me." Raven declared, and though she appreciated the sentiment, it really hadn't been a big deal. She had spotted Raven get knocked off her bike a ways ahead of her, and since she'd mostly been competing to say she had finished, rather than for a certain time or whatnot, she'd gotten off to bandage the girl up and re-set her dislocated shoulder. The injuries had been too much to continue with, and since Raven had been a pretty great patient, she'd bowed out early as well and went for pizza with her new friend.

"Nice to meet you all! How are you guys, tonight?" She asked, not wanting to awkwardly jump right into things with them.

Sadly, it seemed everyone else was on a different page in that regard. "We're good, but clearly not on your level. I saw you down a tumbler of whiskey in, like, one go, so I have to wonder, what are you going to do with that poor frog?" Monty asked, which Clarke supposed was fair enough if he'd managed to be perceptive enough to catch her drinking at the bar.

"Hah, I think the thing just glared at you, Monty!" Raven laughed, though when Clarke took a look at Lexa, the frog was definitely glaring in the boy's direction. At least, as much as a frog can glare. "But yeah, I was wondering that, too. Usually your shadow keeps you out of trouble, Clarke. You taking a walk on the wild side tonight?"

"My shadow?" Clarke asked, not quite getting the reference, though thankfully, Gina stepped in when Raven just started laughing.

"She means Lexa. You two usually _are_ connected at the hip." The girl clarified, Clarke nodded thoughtfully as a look of realization took over Gina. "Speaking of Lexa, I heard she got into it with Nia at the conclave again."

Clarke peered down at poor Lexa and allowed herself a frown, knowing her best friend couldn't see it and feel guilty. "Yeah, Nia went haywire and...well..." Clarke started, before lifting Lexa a little bit. "...I'm trying to fix the mess she made. I hear she's been put under lockdown over what she did, and will be sentenced, but it doesn't change Lexa needing some help this time around."

"Oh shit." Raven blurted out, eyes suddenly sobered up as the mechanic stared down at Lexa with a conflicted mess of pity and the usual aggravation the girl felt towards Lexa. It had been Lexa, after all, who had put away Raven's ex, Finn, for attacking a classroom of students at the academy during one of his mental breaks. The fact that Lexa hadn't been the least bit gentle, and had recommended a maximum sentence, had rubbed Raven the wrong way, given the girl had known him since she was a toddler.

Still, Raven knew all about Costia, and had lost her own first love, and had been tormented by his loss much like Lexa had with Costia. It seemed that was enough to garner some sympathy.

"I've been going around getting women to kiss her, try to break the curse. This is the last major place in Polis. No such luck, so far." Clarke added, giving a shrug when she couldn't find any words to explain the shittiness of the situation without getting too emotional.

"We've gotta do something. I mean, I kind of hate her, but...not as much as this, you know?" Raven stated tiredly before taking a sip of her beer.

Clarke was thinking of some way to thank Raven for her support when she felt Gina lightly prod at her side. "I think Clarke can handle this. Give us a few minutes?" Gina asked Raven, earning a confused nod from the girl, and then from Clarke, who slipped out of the booth and let Gina lead her to an empty corner of the pub.

"Do you have a way to track Lexa's soul mate down? I know that clairvoyants can't control everything you foresee, and all, but..." Clarke began, only for Gina to gently guide Clarke to sit down at a table, the other woman sitting across from her right after.

"Clarke, do you know why the curse Lexa was put under is so rare?" Gina asked with a cocked eyebrow that was far too knowing for her liking. Suddenly, she wasn't so hopeful this little talk would be a good one. Not knowing the answer, she shook her head. "It's because most people have a family member who can kiss them and break it. It's not just romantic true love, it's platonic, too. I know Lexa lost her parents, and she lost her ex girlfriend a few years ago, but she still has friends."

Clarke's mind whirled at the knowledge, never really having expected that detail. "I could go to Anya, or Indra...maybe even Gus, then." She noted with a relieved smile, though Gina just shot her this annoyed and disbelieving expression.

"Clarke...you're Lexa's best friend. You'd do anything for her, right?" Gina asked slowly, and that all was true and well known to the girl, so she nodded along to the obvious statements. "And you want Lexa to be happy and back to normal more than anything...I mean, you're exhausted, Clarke. You look beat, this whole ordeal is getting to you."

Clarke sat back in her seat and, after setting Lexa down on the table, crossed her arms. "Of course it's getting to me, she's my best friend. I don't just leave my friends to wither away as a frog, Gina."

"But you've been doing it all day. You love her...so why haven't you kissed her, yet, Clarke?" Gina shot back, and it was just hitting way too close to home for Clarke not to cover up Lexa's little tympanums.

"This isn't about me, it's about Lexa. And again, I didn't know platonic love worked. Besides, I don't think Lexa would appreciate kissing her best friend, Gina." She argued, feeling confident in her words even as Gina's knowing stare bore into her like a damn drill.

"If this was about Lexa, she'd be fully human again. She _would_ appreciate you kissing her, Clarke...more than you might think. This is about you, and worrying you won't stack up to Costia...and that if Costia's not even the high standard of love for Lexa, then how could you compete?" Gina asked, absolutely blitzing Clarke with a bit of truth she'd tried her best to hide. Leave it to a clairvoyant bartender to pull that from her, the jerks. "You forget I dated a boy in a similar situation. I loved Bellamy, but how could I compete with you? It was exhausting how I never measured up to you, and that ended us. But you, Clarke...you're not stupid enough to miss how Lexa looks at you."

Gina's words hit like a truck, the oxygen in her lungs escaping her in a rush, as if it were being sucked out into space. That was honestly the key to it all, it was the shadow of the truth following her around all day long in her search for Lexa's white knight. _What if I don't measure up to Costia? What if this starts something, but we're not enough to last, and I lose her? What if this changes everything and it's too much? What...what if I do try... and nothing changes?_

Clarke was sure her face was red from exertion and strain when Gina's hand found her shoulder, the other woman having stood from her seat. "Cheer up, Clarke. Lucky or not, your search is over."

Clarke watched Gina walk back to the booth with Raven and her friends, leaving her alone with her best friend, who, as she glanced down at Lexa, realized had managed to turn around and face her, dark eyes staring up at her silently. Which, well, frogs couldn't speak, so of course. Still, she imagined Lexa just staring calmly at her, eyebrows slightly lifted in expectation, waiting for some kind of response, some answer. Lexa had always been patient when it came to her.

"I wasn't ready..." She started, biting down on the inside of her cheek to better control what she'd say; Lexa deserved some truth, and for her not to deflect the topic onto her best friend. "I wasn't ready to risk what we have. I wasn't ready to lose you. I tried to be the good guy, I just wanted to make this better without being weak. You always said love was weakness."

Bracing herself for all the possibilities crashing around in her skull, Clarke lifted Lexa up and, pushing aside the knowledge that she had imagined a much different first kiss between them, brought her lips to the frog. The kiss was brief, only the most minute pressure; it was all she'd honestly had time for.

Growing up, she'd watched the movies, she'd seen how true love's kiss would transform a frog, into golden sparkles of light, and finally into a full human being. It had always been presented as a slow, graceful transformation.

Clarke was not ready for being blasted backwards off her chair, sent skidding across the floor and tumbling into the wall by the washroom doors. Wincing at her freshly aching body, she fixed her gaze on the transformation across the room, apparently now deciding to be all graceful and crap as Lexa took form in front of her.

She was to her knees when Lexa fully materialized, her best friend stumbling clumsily across the pub to her, clearly not entirely used to having her body back again. "Clarke, are you okay?!" Lexa rushed out, arms pulling Clarke to her feet, hands checking her for injury. It wasn't terribly out of the ordinary, though the urgency was.

"I'm fine, really. It probably looked worse than it felt." She noted, realizing as seconds passed that Lexa wasn't pulling her into a kiss, that Lexa wasn't holding her, that Lexa wasn't really saying anything. _I guess there's my answer...nothing changed...just like I wanted. Just like I was scared of..._

Clarke turned away from her friend and held up a finger before escaping into the washroom. Not that her tiny bottle of mouthwash could rinse away the rejection, or sanitize the memory of putting herself on the line and it not being reciprocated, but it could at least distract her for a moment with the sting of alcohol and how it washed away whatever physical evidence of the kiss remained. _I have my best friend back...she's out of her curse...this is no time to feel sorry for myself..._

The sound of raised voices brought Clarke away from her thoughts and had her checking her face for any potentially necessary touch-ups before she made her way back out to the main room, the voices silencing as soon as she peeked out from behind the door. Raven wasn't at all subtle, glaring in Lexa's direction as Gina tried to pull the drunk mechanic back down into the booth.

Lexa, for her part, was ramrod stiff, standing right where Clarke had left her, looking entirely uncomfortable. Still, before she could voice any concern, Lexa stepped closer. "Are you sure you're okay, Clarke?"

She rolled her eyes and offered Lexa her best reassuring smile, pouring all of her emotional energy into making it as authentic as possible. "Of course, I just needed to rinse my mouth. Frog and all." She explained, feeling suddenly uncertain under Lexa's intense gaze. "Are you okay?"

She felt Lexa take gentle hold of her hand, lightly clasping around her digits. "I...I am weak, Clarke." Lexa answered, her voice unusually shaky and thick with emotion, those brilliant viridian eyes glossing over in an instant.

Her brows furrowed in confusion as she parsed the words, because Lexa was looking as physically well as usual, though when she checked the girl for any trembling, the only thing she noticed was the girl's lips. Which brought to mind another kind of weakness. _Fuck, that's smooth...wait..._

"Wait...you just...you stood there, and let me leave and think you didn't feel the same way?" She asked in disbelief, gripping Lexa's hand harder as she lifted her other hand and prodded a finger at her best friend's chest. "What the hell, Lexa?"

Clarke ignored Raven's clapping and cheering from the other side of the pub and focused on the deep blush on Lexa's cheeks and the slight uptilt of her head. "I was trying to be romantic, Clarke."

"Well maybe work on your timing, Commander Hearteyes." Clarke griped, fighting the smile that was threatening to spread cross her lips, wanting to show Lexa that she was not very impressed at the waiting game, even if she appreciated the sentiment.

"Would you have preferred I say nothing, and kiss your slime-covered lips? That I get down on my knees and bow before you, pledging my eternal fealty to you and improvising wedding vows?" Lexa asked, the slightest of smiles brimming on her lips, and okay, point taken. A kiss with frog grime fresh on her lips might have been a tad too hasty.

"Such a drama queen..." Clarke murmured, stepping up to Lexa and wrapping her free arm around her best friend's waist. "You're lucky I'm weak for you, too."

Maybe their story wasn't one for the fairytales, and maybe they weren't a kiss away from a happily ever after, whatever that even was, but when Lexa pulled her in for a kiss and it felt like a future, Clarke knew she could get used to that. And maybe she'd go easy on Raven for the brazenly graphic and loud teasing remarks the girl was throwing their way. Maybe.

* * *

 **A/N: So I got this prompt on tumblr from an anon, and while my first reaction was "Clarke wouldn't be going bar-hopping without having kissed Lexa first", the prompt did push for Clarke learning during her search. So I tried to think up a way that could justify that, and I thought I did alright. Clearly magic's involved in this AU, but I wasn't basing it off anything specific.**

 **And I had to include Gina because she's a cinnamon roll too pure for The 100, and needed some loving.**

 **Anywho, I hope you enjoyed this odd ball of fluff!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Pairing: Clarke/Anya**

 **Clarke gets super bored and trawls the internet for something interesting to read about, eventually stumbling on the fact that August 1st is National Girlfriend's Day. Entirely single, she makes a quick tumblr post about wanting a date for then that blows up and halfway mortifies her. But someone saw that post, and maybe found the courage to do something about her crush...**

 **Modern AU/Fluff**

* * *

Clarke Griffin was officially bored out of her mind. Her summer internship wasn't incredibly hours-intensive, and living at home during the months away from school gave the benefit of having most mornings and afternoons to herself, at least when she wasn't interning.

And honestly, there was only so much she could do with her time. It was especially hard to draw or paint when she couldn't quite find her muse, so Clarke had spent a lot of time online lately.

She knew she'd reached the pinnacle of boredom when she found herself on some website about all the holidays taking place on a given day of the year. It was amusing how inane or ridiculous some of them were as she made her way through the calendar.

It wasn't all bad, her own birthday falling on 'Beer and Pizza Day', which wasn't so rough, even if that day was also 'Moldy Cheese Day'. It was around the hour mark when she found herself passing the current date and heading into the near future.

"Huh...August is apparently 'Romance Awareness month', and 'Peach month'. Go figure." Clarke mused to herself as she checked out the entries for the first of August. "Respect for Parents Day, International Childfree Day, whatever the hell Rounds Resounding Day is, and...wait, hold the hell up...Girlfriends Day?"

Clarke heaved a sigh as the reminder of her being single hit her with full force. "Well, fuck that noise."

She quickly switched tabs to Tumblr and started up a new text post, not even taking the time to check her spelling before submitting it.

 _ **clarkegriff**_ _  
august 1st is national girlfriend's day who's gonna bite the bullet nd date me_

The rumbling of her stomach provided a sudden reminder that it'd been five hours since breakfast, giving her something to do after an utterly boring morning. Maybe she popped out to the nearby bakery to grab a cherry turnover, too.

By the time she'd finished lunch, her mom had returned from her shift and the both of them finished making plans for the weekend, when her grandparents would be popping by for a visit, which always ended up eventful, often with controversy.

In all honesty, it wasn't until after her mom went off on another of her secretive dates that she got the urge to get on her computer again, prompting the memory that she'd made an embarrassing post about how single she was.

Clarke quickly navigated to her recent posts, ignoring the oddly large amount of messages she had been sent for the moment, but found herself halfway appalled that not only had her friends responded to her post, they had shared it, giving her post a modest three hundred and eighty reblogs and well over a thousand notes.

 _ **quoththerave**_ _ **n** reblogged your post and added:_ priceless! c'mon fellow delinquents let's get our girl a date with an internet stranger!

 _ **niylahtte**_ _reblogged your post and added:_ if I was still in DC you know I'd be game, griffin

 _ **bellamybalakay**_ _reblogged your post and added:_ *raises hand*

 _ **c0stiatheb0sstia**_ _reblogged your post and added:_ Clarke's too sweet a girl to give the boy who ruined her high school prom a chance. Didn't Octavia threaten to castrate you if you went near Clarke again, Bellamy? Anyway, you're kind and talented and beautiful, anyone would be lucky to have you as a girlfriend, Clarke

 _ **heda-of-the-pack**_ _reblogged your post and added:_ c0stiatheb0sstia is right. You're special, Clarke. Perhaps this will give a certain someone the courage to ask you out

 _ **mgr33nmachine**_ _reblogged your post and added:_ if it means Clarke will play less Daughter or The Antlers at her parties, then I'm all for this. Sorry Clarke but they just kill the mood

 _ **0ctag0n**_ _reblogged your post and added:_ How hilarious is it that mine and Lincoln's fourth anniversary is july 31st, the day before this? *ps: I will castrate you bellamy

Clarke frowned at the swarm of other reblogs with additions that she didn't recognize; she hadn't meant to actually garner responses, given she hadn't been _that_ desperate, after all. Still, her friends were nothing if not determined to aid in her embarrassment.

She quickly checked her messages and got to deleting the massive amount of anon spam asking for a date. Maybe a small, tiny part of her hoped to see someone familiar asking her out in her messages, but alas, it just wasn't meant to be. It would have been too easy.

"Almost as easy as Octavia and Lincoln make it look...ugh..." Clarke mumbled, knowing she was entirely happy for her friends, but it was frustrating that they essentially met and started dating the same day, and things have rarely ever gotten rocky between them.

Reading through the responses again, Clarke couldn't help but focus on Lexa's remarks. Almost as if her best friend knew someone who was interested in her, and hadn't told her. It _almost_ had her feeling wary, but she was about ninety percent sure Lexa wouldn't keep something like that from her, so she chalked it up to a more general statement that maybe someone somewhere had been interested, and her post could bring them out.

It was a long shot, but Clarke decided she wasn't going to worry about it. It was two weeks away, and she was sure that by the time it rolled around, she'll have forgotten all about it. Her mind made up, Clarke continued her Harry Potter marathon from the other day and settled down for a lazy night in.

* * *

 _July 31st_

"I can't believe Linctavia's making us travel cross-country to celebrate their anniversary." Clarke groused from Raven's passenger seat, staring out the window as they drove down a tiny little road surrounded by wilderness.

"It's less than an hour out of the city, stop complaining. Besides, can you imagine twenty to thirty people crammed into O and Linc's place? It's basically a studio with a few large closets. Lincoln's sister offered her cottage up, and it's on the water, so like, how can they pass that up?" Raven countered, and okay, maybe Clarke could see the logic in their decision. Still, she'd had a long few days, and her mother had been on her case about dating ever since her grandparents bugged her all last weekend about grandchildren. Clarke was tired.

Not too tired to celebrate four years of her friends' happiness, of course, but she was not in the greatest of moods.

"I think my biggest worry is that the rest of the party's gonna drain my tequila, and I'll be left with their gross craft beers and that Tuborg crap." Clarke noted with a grimace, wondering if she could ditch the BYOB rule and hide her tequila away for herself.

"Mmh. If I ever made a time machine, I think I'd go back in time to whoever introduced them to Tuborg, and I'd stab them. Shit's offensively bland." Raven said in agreement as she turned off into an even narrower road. "But hey, we might get lucky. Maybe folks stocked up on hard liquor this time around?"

Clarke shrugged, hoping but not expecting it to be the case. Especially when they made their way past the brush and the cottage came into view, only a handful of vehicles parked off to the side of the driveway. "Shit. Guess that's not happening."

The cottage wasn't huge, but it was bigger than Clarke had expected, recalling the few cramped buildings her family had vacationed at during her childhood here and there. By the size of this one, it was a full-fledged year-round residence big enough for a family, and then some.

Raven let out a low whistle as she slowed her approach and found a place to park. "Lincoln never said his sister had money."

"I didn't know he even had a sister until, like, two years ago. I think I met her a few times at the occasional party. Anya, I think." Clarke mused openly, before a memory clicked into place. "Yeah, yeah, she was Lexa and Costia's DD at Lincoln's last two birthdays, and she hung around Luna at New Years'."

Raven nodded along as she shut off the ignition and grabbed her jacket from the back. "She looked a little intimidating, but she's never done anything to make me think she's shady, so at least there's that."

Clarke and Raven grabbed their things and their drinks and headed off towards the cottage, hopeful that they had a good night ahead of them.

* * *

"Clarke! Raven! You made it!" Octavia cheered, rushing over to them as they entered the cottage. Lincoln and his friend Roan had ferried their things off to the basement for storage when they arrived so there was nothing preventing Octavia from literally tackling them into a hug that nearly toppled the three of them over and into a nearby wall. "You should see the yard, especially down by the water. Lincoln and Anya spent, like, all day yesterday decking it out with lights and furniture and it's just so great."

Clarke felt herself hesitate for a moment as something clicked in her mind, realizing that maybe tonight would be a little more than just Linctavia's fourth anniversary together, whether O was aware of it or not. "This place is definitely bigger than I expected."

"I know, right? I always imagined a shack, since Anya's not super fancy or anything and I'd never been here before, but jeez. Anyways, you two should totally check out the dock, it's amazing." Octavia rambled at a breakneck pace, pulling them through the cottage and towards doors leading to the backyard.

They stepped out onto a deck that had been decorated with lights and plants and flowers, and Clarke shared a glance with Raven that let her know her friend was on the same wavelength.

She cast a fond glance at Octavia, who was already rushing off towards the water, where Lincoln and a woman were sitting, legs dangling off the side and over the water.

As soon as O was out of hearing distance, Clarke took in the sight of the yard. The deck was all made up and fancy, but the cute little gazebo looked like a easy locale for the special event, and then the dock was all lit up and had her thinking it could be there, as well.

"Lincoln's proposing tonight." Clarke noted as her lips bloomed into a smile. "She's going to be so happy."

"She's going to be insufferable. Fifty-fifty odds between us for maid of honour duties, and while I'd like the job, I think I'd end up strangling her before she got to walk down the aisle." Raven added with a laugh, and Clarke couldn't help but agree. Octavia could be a handful as is; with a wedding in need of planning, and all the implications that are tied up in the notion of marriage, Clarke could only wonder how high-strung and intense O would be.

For a moment, Clarke felt a bit of envy, knowing Octavia was two years younger, had already spent four years together with Lincoln, and was on the verge of engagement. Clarke, in contrast, had been more or less single for four and a half years, failing all efforts at dating due to her dense schedule at school and a terrible spree of bad luck.

It was easy to shake that feeling away, though, knowing life wasn't a competition, and that she'd fill in the gaps of her life sooner or later. Life worked at different speeds in different things for everyone, and that's just how things were.

"Come on, we should head down there." Clarke said with a grin, a little excited to see how the night would unfold and where Lincoln would pop the question.

They made their way down the gently sloped yard to the dock, Lincoln and Anya getting to their feet when Clarke and Raven got close enough. As per usual, Lincoln pulled Raven and then Clarke into lung-destroying hugs, but Clarke could sense a lot more excitement coming from the man today, for good reason.

It was when her gaze shifted past Lincoln to Anya that she could feel her heart immediately burst forward in her chest, as if to compel her to close the distance. Maybe it was because she'd never quite gotten close enough to get a good look at Anya in the past that she found herself astounded, but the woman cleaned up really well. She took in the sight of perfectly tousled dirty blonde waves, an airy long sleeved top, a skirt that showed far more leg than she remembered Anya having, and then those intense brown eyes that were staring back at her with curiosity and warmth.

Clarke swallowed her awkwardness, knowing she'd been caught staring and gave a wave that may have been even more awkward. "Hey, thanks for having us, Anya."

If anything, Anya just looked amused, so at least there was that. "It's my pleasure, Clarke, really."

"Yeah, Clarke, it's her pleasure." Octavia chipped in with an odd amount of jubilation shining in her eyes. Clarke chalked it up to O maybe getting an idea of what would be happening tonight, an easy enough reason.

"Good of you to have us get here early, O." Raven snarked, shooting their friend a wide grin.

Octavia offered them a playful shrug. "Nothin' wrong with having my closest friends here from the start. Don't want you showing up and falling into the crowd before we can get some time together." Her friend noted cheekily. "Besides, you two were the ones to get me to talk to Lincoln in the first place. You should be here before just about anyone else."

"Anya lives here, and Roan's been here since this morning helping set things up, but after them, it made sense to have you two here." Lincoln added with a smile, pulling Raven into a side hug that had the woman rolling her eyes.

"Just try to make sure the rest of the party goes light on our booze. Clarke will get grumpy if all she has to drink is your crap beer, Lincoln." Raven shot back, prompting the man to cover his heart with his hand as if he'd been wounded.

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" Anya said, looking almost mirthful at Raven before shifting her gaze to Clarke. "If you run out of yours tonight, just come find me. I've got a stash of my own that I keep locked up, I wouldn't mind sharing it with you."

Now, Clarke was aware of Anya's reputation of being loyal and helpful to her people, no matter if an issue was big or small. She just hadn't thought that extended to her. "Thanks! You sure you won't mind? Because I'm pretty sure my tequila will be among the first to go."

Anya just laughed and stepped up beside Clarke, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Just come find me." The woman murmured, before turning back to the rest of the group. "All the food should be ready soon. I'll be up at the smoker if you need me."

Clarke just stared at the lithe hand as it grazed along her shoulder in departure, her head turning against her will to watch Anya walk away with an agonizingly mesmeric sway in her step.

Two hands pressed against the side of her face, pulling her head and gaze around to Raven, whose shit-eating grin was entirely unnerving. "One more second and you would've come down with a case of the gay sweats, Griffin. Be thankful."

Clarke shrugged Raven off and swallowed hard at the rush of attraction. "Hey, you don't see me teasing you about your secret girlfriend, Raven. Don't hate on me for having eyes." Clarke shot back, feeling a little affronted. Besides, just because Anya had been kind to her didn't mean that the woman was flirting or interested. Clarke liked to think that she only got the gay sweats for the occasional celebrity and women who were also into her. With Raven settled, she turned back to Lincoln. "Don't worry, I'm good. Not going to hit on your sister, Linc."

"Eh, she can handle herself." Lincoln retorted casually, as if it wasn't a big thing that she'd been caught severely ogling Anya.

She shook her head and turned her focus to Octavia, deciding to shift discussion to something that wasn't so utterly strange and confusing. "So...what's next? How can I help?"

* * *

The proposal was perfectly fitting for Lincoln and Octavia. As per their usual routine, they took a walk after dinner together, making their way around Anya's property. All the attendees watched from windows or the deck as the pair made their way down to the dock, Lincoln proposing at the edge of it to an immediately exuberant Octavia.

A few minutes of kissing later, the diminutive brunette had dashed up the hill and into the house, all wide eyed and red faced, yelling _"We're engaged, bitches!"_

At which point, the festivities really took off, Clarke and Raven shared hugs with their soon-to-be-married friend, and the booze was quickly dipped into.

An hour and six minutes. That was how long it took for Clarke's bottle of tequila to completely disappear, and she'd only managed two shots. To say she was disappointed and frustrated would be an understatement, since drinking games were ramping up and Clarke did not want to even consider drinking any of the leftover drinks.

 _At least Octavia and Lincoln are having the time of their lives, being mostly sober for once at their own party. And the food was really good, too..._ Clarke mused to herself before her memory clicked in. _Anya said to go to her if my tequila ran out...maybe I should..._

It was enticing, but dangerous. Almost as if Anya had this magnetic field around her that drew Clarke to her, but the last thing she wanted to do was embarrass herself in front of the host, or be too needy, or give her attraction away and make the woman uncomfortable.

After all, Raven had been teasing her for years about how her 'game' had depreciated to the point where her attempts were more awkward than anything. That was the last way she wanted to come across to Anya, who always seemed so put together.

Clarke shook her head in decision that she'd leave the alcohol issue alone for now. At least until the inevitable moment where Lexa and Costia would try to rope her into beer pong. Clarke could hope that her competitive friends would hold off on that for at least a little while longer.

Besides, it was entertaining enough watching Raven be ridiculous at King's Cup.

Clarke wasn't sure how much time had passed when Roan was forced to down the huge glass full of mixed beers, but a familiar voice startled Clarke from her daze of morbid entertainment.

"Disgusting. I give him five minutes before he's wrapped around a toilet." Anya spoke from her right, leaving Clarke wondering exactly when Anya had ninja'd herself almost directly beside her without making a sound or catching Clarke's eye.

She shook the substantial surprise off and offered a nod, unsure what else to do. "Yeah, there are three different craft beers and some Tuborg in there. That's a mix that can only end in tears."

Anya let out a heavy sigh. "I guess he'll be doing clean-up duty tomorrow, too."

"Tonight's worth it. Not every day his friend gets engaged." Clarke stated, eyes scanning the crowd, only to fall on Lexa, who was waving in her direction. "Ah, well, there goes my luck."

She could feel Anya's eyes boring into her as she watched Lexa push through the room to stand in front of her.

"Octavia's setting up the beer pong table. Costia and I were wondering if we could face you in the first round of the tournament." Lexa stated more politely than was really necessary, but the woman was always quirky and sweet like that.

Still, the question had Clarke on her heels, knowing she'd want to play, but hadn't expected the tournament so soon. "I, uh, I'd need to find something to drink, you know I don't really do beer." She answered, drawing a slow nod from Lexa, who seemed to be considering options at the moment. Knowing she needed an out, Clarke turned her gaze to Anya, who was watching the both of them with a bit of amusement shining in her eyes. "Anya offered to help me get something decent. If the offer still stands?"

Anya's eye-roll was like something out of a cartoon for how exaggerated it was, but the woman stepped off the wall and offered her hand. "It does. I'll have her back soon, Lexa."

Lexa shot Clarke a grin and turned to peer around the crowd, eventually spotting Costia and shooting her a thumbs up. "Oh, and Clarke...you and Anya should team up. Apparently Lincoln's sitting out tonight, so Raven's in with Octavia. You're missing a partner."

 _Okay...that's strange..._ Clarke thought to herself, knowing Raven always teamed up with her, and had for the past five years whenever they were able to. They were Team Princess Mechanic, and routinely won tournaments. _I guess maybe O called in a favour, given it's her special day? Can't blame her or Raven for that. Kind of sweet, really, and it gives me a chance to topple Raven this time around..._

She turned to Anya, who was just staring at her expectantly. "You game for that?" She asked simply, earning a thoughtful nod. "Cool. Lexa, you can sign us up."

With that, she took Anya's hand and let herself be led through the cottage, making the trek upstairs and into a large bedroom with a bed that took Clarke's breath away. Maybe she was a little buzzed, but she couldn't help but let go of Anya's hand and wander over to the wooden masterpiece.

"Mother of Christ, how...how does someone get a bed like that?" She asked, running a hand down one of the coiling bedposts, admiring the bark-like texture etched into the wood and how they rose up to a canopy with wooden leaf designs.

"I special ordered it a few years ago from a carpenter friend of mine. He owed me a favor, and I needed something more...versatile." Anya stated, unlocking some cabinet outside of Clarke's field of vision. "It's a little over the top, but we sleep through so much of our life. Nothing wrong with treating yourself with something essential."

Clarke could agree with that much. She'd lived on dorm room beds for years and they were never pleasant. She could only imagine the comfort a bed like the one before her could provide. How good of a sleep she could have.

"What's with the different curtains?" Clarke asked, knowing she should focus on alcohol and get back to the party, but it was nice taking a bit of a break. Besides, it was a curious set-up.

"I get migraines, so I have blackout curtains for the bed. That, and my ex-girlfriend was a late-riser, and I get up early. I do my best work in here over at my desk, so I could work in the sunlight all I wanted, while she could sleep the morning away in the dark." Anya explained, and okay, that did seem pretty useful, all things considered. "I figured they could help if whoever gets my bed tonight wakes with a hangover."

Clarke nodded along for a moment before stilling and turning to face her host. "Wait, why wouldn't you get your bed?"

Anya pulled out a few bottles from her cabinet and set them on top, laying out a decent selection of hard liquor. "I have a conference call I need to make early tomorrow morning, so it'd be a waste for me to lay claim to it. And even if I shared, the chance I could wake them would be too high. Lexa and Costia laid claim to the loft above the garage, Octavia and Lincoln are most likely sleeping out on the gazebo, so that leaves me with a choice of guest rooms." Anya answered, hesitating for a moment before gesturing towards the bed. "If you'd like, you can sleep here tonight."

It was probably a good thing that she didn't have a mirror in sight, because Clarke knew her eyes bugged out a bit at the offer. "You'd do that?"

"You seem enamored with it. Who am I to get in the way of my bed treating you to a good night?" Anya noted with a wry grin. It was a tempting offer, one she wasn't sure she could accept, but when she opened her mouth to speak, Anya just lifted an eyebrow in challenge. "It's settled. You're sleeping here tonight."

Clarke gnawed on her lip for a moment before crossing the distance to Anya and carefully sizing her up. Something told her something strange was going on, but she couldn't put her finger on it. At least, not yet.

"You're being really nice to me tonight." Clarke said, putting all her attention on watching Anya's face, but her words didn't get any reaction aside from an amused smile.

"You're my guest. I'd be a bad hostess if I wasn't." Anya shot back, words coming out all slow and smooth, as if they'd been rehearsed. It was strange.

"It's not that, it's something else." Clarke accused, maybe taking it all a bit too far, but Anya didn't seem to mind, offering a small shrug.

"Have you ever considered that I like it when people in my life are enjoying themselves and taken care of?" Anya asked, immediately emptying Clarke's mind and forcing her to recall all the instances she'd encountered the woman. Just about every time, Anya had been essentially looking after others. "I'm a busy woman, Clarke. I don't get much time to treat my family and friends. And I don't get many opportunities to connect with people."

Clarke considered Anya's words and try as she might, she couldn't find anything but truth in them. It was more than a little relieving. "And you want to connect with _me_?"

"Everyone I know speaks highly of you, but I've never had the chance to really get to know you. I'd...I'd like to." Anya answered, stumbling a little over her words, bringing a visible blush to her cheeks that was a lot cuter than Clarke had anticipated.

 _Oh god, she's at least bi, and she's cute, and super pretty, and sweet, and...she has a really, really nice bed. This could get dangerous..._ She thought to herself, weighing the risks with the gains only to find that the latter came out on top handily.

"I think I'd really like that, Anya." Clarke noted, perhaps more shyly than she'd hoped for, but the timid smile on Anya's face was worth it. "Anyway, we should get back before Octavia finds us and drags us away."

Anya gave a quick nod and turned to her selection. "So...anything that tickles your fancy?"

Clarke stepped up alongside Anya, maybe a little too closely as she ran an idle hand from the woman's shoulder down to the small of her back. "I think I've had the Riazul before, it looks familiar. I'll go with that, thanks."

Anya stashed away the rest of her collection, locked it up, and then handed Clarke the bottle, shooting her a devious excited grin. "Now, are you ready to destroy our friends?"

Laughter bubbled out of her as she nodded along. "They have no idea what they're up against."

* * *

Clarke woke to the sound of Octavia crying Lincoln's name filtering in through the windows, leaving her half-awake and wondering if maybe the blackout drapes were also to keep her sheltered from looking out the window, where the gazebo would likely be in full view. Clarke made her way to the end of the bed, pulled open the white, transparent drapes and blearily peered out the window for confirmation that she wasn't just imagining Linctavia having sex in the middle of the goddamn morning with a house full of potential witnesses around.

Octavia had always been a bit of an exhibitionist. As annoying as the disruption was, she really should have expected it.

Thankfully the bed was egregiously comfy. Comfier than anything she'd experienced in her entire life, which was why it was so easy to just crawl back to her pillows, snuggle back under the covers, and drift off again.

Clarke woke for the second time to the sound of a car horn beeping twice quickly, Bellamy's usual way of saying farewell from the inside of his damned truck. It was a habit that she'd loathed for years, given his inability to get hung over and his penchant for getting up early. He'd woken her plenty of times in her current situation, and Clarke knew she'd eventually get her revenge.

This time around, it was a lot easier to just enjoy the warmth and coziness of the bed, even if Clarke knew she wouldn't be falling asleep again, given that the horn had woken her fully.

Her childhood bed had nothing on Anya's, so maybe she took liberties with it. And maybe she sniffed the lightly perfumed scent on the pillows; vanilla-lavender, the scent someone might spray if they were having difficulty sleeping.

Which had Clarke worried to a surprising degree. She hadn't known Anya very well for very long, but the woman had been kind, and friendly, and had given up her bed to her after admitting to needing to be up for a morning business call. Whatever sleep Anya had sacrificed, Clarke hoped the woman would recuperate it in her own bed soon enough.

After all, Anya had done more drinking than was probably advisable given her plans for that morning. She had been one hell of a beer pong partner. Clarke had always been good at the long range shots, at the cups furthest back, and Raven had been much the same, but they'd always managed. Anya was the queen of shorter range shots, and tended to dunk them so others couldn't blow them out.

They'd blazed a trail through the tournament and came out on top of Octavia and Raven in the finals with two cups in left over. And maybe she'd celebrated the victory by drinking even more of Anya's tequila. And maybe Anya joined in.

And, though that's where her memories got a little hazy, maybe she danced with Anya a little in the kitchen once the drinking games ended. Past that, Clarke wasn't sure what happened, but she'd clearly made it back to bed, and no matter how long she'd slept, she felt well rested.

Just a little too comfy to leave just yet. Clarke couldn't help but be thankful that Raven was the type to sleep in, and hadn't already tried to drag her away. Leaving such a comfy and wonderful smelling bed before noon seemed like it should be a crime.

Clarke was going over the rest of her weekend plans in her head when there was a light knock at her door. More curious than anything, Clarke called out "Come in."

She watched as the door carefully slid open, revealing Anya with a massive tray of food in her arms. Clarke wasn't sure what she was more excited about, having Anya near, wearing yoga pants and a delectably revealing crop top, or having breakfast, suddenly realizing that she was pretty hungry.

"I apologize if Bellamy woke you. I told him not to use his horn, but he didn't listen. I thought it might have woken you." Anya stated with an apologetic smile. "If it means anything, I could slash his tires next time he comes by."

The offer had a sharp laugh bursting out of her, having an odd feeling that Anya actually might do such a thing. "It's okay, I'm sure we can brainstorm some way to get him back." She noted, eyes flitting from the tray, to Anya, and back again. "Are you...bringing me breakfast?"

Anya's teeth descended into her lip as the woman slowly made her way closer, stopping at the foot of the bed. "I'd like to think that we had fun last night. As I told you yesterday, I'd wanted to spend time with you for a while now." Anya started, words hesitantly spilling out as a look of uncertainty washed over the woman's features. "Earlier this month, a post of yours came across my Tumblr dash, and...perhaps I'm being a bit presumptuous..."

Clarke's jaw had dropped at the mere mention of Tumblr, her slightly mortifying post immediately flashing in her memory. "It's August first."

Anya just nodded, head ducking slightly, those beautiful cheekbones awash in red and pink.

She fought for some semblance of composure as things started to fall into place. Lexa insinuating someone had been interested in her. Octavia obnoxiously repeating that it was Anya's pleasure to host Clarke. Lincoln being entirely cool with Clarke ogling his sister. Anya being so accommodating.

Clarke fixed her focus back on the woman before her. "Anya..." She started, drawing the woman's full attention, those soft eyes staring at her. And she kind of adored those eyes already, but this close, it was so easy to see how tired Anya was. "Babe, come settle in beside me."

If she thought Anya's face had been red before, it was nothing compared to the blush taking over her face, spreading down her neck to her collarbone. The small smile was equally endearing as Anya carefully made her way to the side of the bed. Clarke pulled open the drapes and lifted up the duvet, letting Anya carefully slip under the covers and scoot over to her side.

While breakfast was so utterly seductive, Clarke first placed a hand atop Anya's nearest. "Anya, you didn't have to go through so much trouble. You're Lincoln's sister, you're good friends with most of my friends. That alone means I'd be happy to go out with you." Clarke explained, Anya's wide-eyed surprise making her heart melt just a tiny little bit at how uncertain and careful the woman had been about everything. "So all this? Yesterday, the bed, breakfast? Icing on the cake."

"So...us having a breakfast date on National Girlfriend's Day...that's okay?" Anya asked, hope shining in her eyes, the hint of a smile twitching at her lips.

It was enough for Clarke to lean over and press a kiss to Anya's cheek. "All of that makes me a lucky girl. But you look like you barely got any sleep, so...in the interest of making sure this date goes off without a hitch, maybe when we finish breakfast, we clean up, you take a nap with me, and then maybe we can see about the rest of the day?"

Clarke watched the tension leave Anya's body as the woman sagged into her side. "I suppose I could use some rest, I've been up since four-thirty."

Her eyes bugged out at the statement as she wrapped an arm around Anya's waist. "We went to bed after three! Okay, yeah, you need to sleep. Doctor's orders."

"You're only in med school, Clarke." Anya protested with a laugh, shifting ever so slightly closer and curling into Clarke. It was a damned nice feeling.

"Mmmhmm, but my mom's been a doctor for decades, and she always said that if I had less than five hours sleep, then I had to get more. So if you're not gonna listen to me, babe, you have to listen to her. Especially if you're going to be coming over for dinner tonight." Clarke stated firmly, cocking an eyebrow when Anya just stared at her all befuddled. "Because she'll know, and she won't be impressed. So you're going to rest up, because I like you, and I want this to work."

Anya just stared at her, those soft brown eyes more than capable of piercing through her and searching for the sincerity that Clarke hoped the woman would find. "You want to have me over for dinner?"

Clarke nodded. "If you're free, yeah. I think it'd work as a good second date."

Anya let out a chuckle and before Clarke could realize it, she had a bit of strawberry jam on her cheek. "You move fast, Clarke Griffin." Anya said with a wry smile before leaning closer and kissing the jam off her cheek. "I like it."

Clarke decided to shift focus to the food as her stomach rumbled again, shifting in place until she was sitting up straight with her pillows acting as a backrest. "Okay, so tell me, where did all this food come from?"

"Well, after dealing with my call, I spent a good portion of the morning baking." Anya answered as she took hold of a spoon and claimed one of the tiny bowls of fruit for herself.

Just the thought of a relentlessly tired Anya ending her early morning work, only to hop into the kitchen and likely spend hours prepping breakfast for her had Clarke's heart blooming. That sort of selfless dedication didn't come around every day, and her own was a reason why some of her past relationships didn't work, in how often it had been taken advantage of.

Clarke knew how to appreciate those gifts. "Baby, come here, and let's dig in so you can get to sleeping sooner than later. It all smells so delicious."

Honestly, the food was even tastier than it smelled, and she did everything she could to keep Anya aware of how much she appreciated it, and how much she was enjoying it, but midway through, it was clear that her date was on the verge of zonking out.

Careful as she could, she set the food aside, and helped Anya to the ensuite, leaving her to wash up as she quickly brought the food back to the kitchen and wrapped the leftovers up. By the time she returned, Anya was just getting back into bed.

Clarke made her way to the side of the bed and closed the blackout curtains before heading to the end of the bed, crawling onto it, and closing the transparent drapes behind her, leaving them fully enclosed. "There we go." She murmured to herself before turning and making her way up to the head of the bed and slipping under the covers.

She honestly hadn't meant to be alluring in whatever she'd done, but when she turned to be face to face with Anya, she could see the arousal in her eyes even as the woman's eyelids fluttered and strained to remain open. It was a little flattering, really.

"Time for that later." Clarke whispered with a grin, gently lifting Anya's chin with her fingertips and drawing her into a chaste kiss that had her date's body immediately wrapping around her. The kiss lingered, and Clarke made sure to pepper a few more across Anya's face as she pulled away, just to make sure the woman knew how she felt, how happy she was about the morning's turn of events.

Because damn. It was National Girlfriend's Day, and she might just have a girlfriend by the end of it. For the meantime, a beautifully charming woman and a seductive bed had her confident that her fortune was taking a turn for the better.

* * *

 **A/N: So this was all drawn from the tumblr post here: (lunasapphic post/148082276388)**

 **I went the Clanya route because i wanted to write a fic where everyone's pretty happy, like Lexa & Costia girlfriends, Octavia engaged to Lincoln, Raven secretly dating Abby, and then Clarke and Anya to complete the bunch.**

 **Anywho, this was a fair bit unfocused and a little sloppy, but I wanted to write it in time for today, so that meant churning it out quickly.**

 **Hope you enjoyed this bit of fluff!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Pairing: Clarke/Lexa**

 **Clarke's bored in her group psychology class when the prof arranges for a mediation exercise between classmates to go over the week's lessons. Fortunately, she has her friend, Monty, to mediate in her assigned group. Unfortunately, Lexa Woods, her rival from the school's Musical Theatre Society who she'd been fighting for roles with since day one, is the third member of her group, and they're pushed into a bit of a role-play.**  
 **Clarke decides it's about time to get a leg up on Lexa**

 **Modern AU, Fluff, College AU, Monty Doesn't Get Paid Enough for This**

* * *

"...and that completes the lecture for today. Now, Niylah's set up stations around the classroom and is going around handing everyone a number or a letter M...when she's done, move to the station with your number. If you were handed an M, find a pair of students without a mediator." The professor droned on, making Clarke wish her class would be over immediately, even if she knew that in-class exercises were marked and made up a good chunk of her grade. "Together, the three of you will work out a conflict of the mediator's choosing. You will role-play a position, and realistically, or as best as you can manage, work towards a resolution. You need not succeed, but you must try to go through all the steps we discussed in class."

Clarke sighed as she was handed her number, moving to her feet and listlessly making her way to station three. Thankfully, her friend Monty, who was handed an M, quickly made his way over to the table, helping her know it'd at least not be a complete train-wreck of an exercise.

Clarke waited impatiently as students slowly made their way to their assigned stations, but found herself immediately wanting to just forfeit the exercise when Lexa Woods stared walking in her direction.

Lexa Woods was her rival. They were in the same graduating class, and had entered Polis University's Musical Theater Society at the same time, and had spent the past two months fighting over parts, the most recent being the major play the society put on at the end of the winter semester. Every part Clarke tried out for, Lexa would.

Needless to say, Lexa Woods was infuriating as she was beautiful. And god damn was that woman the picture of beauty, which made challenging her for parts even more difficult and frustrating.

"Monty Green, right?" Lexa asked, applying her full focus on the group's moderator. She didn't even wait for his nod before she was speaking again. "What's our scenario?"

"Oh, um...how about..." Monty thought out loud, and Clarke just barely stifled a groan, recalling that Monty was great at improvising technical workarounds, not creative acting opportunities. "How about Clarke's moving out of the home you both live in, without notice? Does...does that sound alright?"

Lexa just sat down and gave Monty a stiff nod. Clarke considered the scenario, knowing it was really basic, but due to Monty's wording offered some flexibility. Lexa regularly had Clarke on her heels during rehearsals, the least she could do was return the favour.

"I'm good with that." Clarke agreed, watching Lexa's jaw shift to the side as blue eyes met green.

"Okay, so, uh, Clarke. Let's start with you, since you're creating the conflict here. Why are you moving out like this? Tell us where you're coming from." Monty said, finally taking a seat adjacent to them.

Clarke took a deep breath and steeled her expression. "I'm leaving because my fiancée's neglected me across the three years of our engagement, and I can't take any more broken promises. Just living with her right now is more than I can handle, emotionally. I need out, and I need out _now_."

By the utterly shocked expression on Lexa's face, Clarke knew she'd made a strong opening volley. Yet, as she watched that shock turn to frustrated sorrow, she knew that Lexa wouldn't be giving up too easily.

"And where do you stand, Lexa? How did you react to the news that Clarke wanted to leave so abruptly?" Monty asked, bringing Lexa into the mediation.

Even if Clarke didn't like Lexa, she could appreciate her quick thinking, and braced herself to take in as much information as Lexa would be giving. She needed to be prepared for the eventual back and forth.

"I was _devastated_. Clarke and I have been together for six years, engaged for just over three now. I proposed the night we graduated from university, in the auditorium at the top floor of the Heda building. I...I thought we were okay. We had problems, every couple has something, but I love her. I've just been busy. We've both been busy." Lexa stated, voice wavering in spots, almost sounding entirely sincere.

"Okay, so, uh...let's talk about some negotiation here. Lexa says you're both busy, Clarke, you say she's broken promises. Clarke, let's start with you...what would you need from Lexa for you to change your mind on this, if anything?" Monty asked, and Clarke was glad that he was focusing on time and that element of Lexa's spiel.

That last addition of Lexa's helped Clarke shift her thoughts from a four letter word to the issue at hand. "We're _both_ busy, we both said we'd take care of each other, but I was always the one sacrificing! I'm in med school, my hours are just as ridiculous as hers, but I still find the time to come by to the office with lunch for her when she's too swamped to eat. I still manage to do everything around the house. I still manage to set up date nights for us, Lexa...not that you'd _know_ since you've missed the last three, and the last six of the last seven." Clarke ranted, taking a calming breath and composing herself before continuing, doing her best to ignore the shattered expression on Lexa's face and the strange things it was doing to her heart. "I can't live in that house anymore, because it's a reminder, despite my best efforts, of how alone I am."

"We...we knew what we were signing up for, Clarke. We agreed on how it'd go, how rough the first few years of our engagement could be, and don't forget who's paying your way through medical school. We both wanted our careers and each other, we both knew me climbing the ladder in mine would get us there faster. It's hard, so hard, but I'm doing the best I can. You promised me that when it came to your career, that you'd always choose me. I'm sorry you're hurting, and maybe it's my fault that we haven't been communicating as well as we should, but when did that change?" Lexa asked, expression growing more tortured as she spoke, and if Clarke stared hard enough, she could almost see Lexa's heart breaking in her eyes.

Damn that woman and her acting skills.

"It changed..." Clarke started, taking a moment to think up a back-story, quickly filling it out with detail after detail, feeling her throat tighten and her chest swell as she further invested herself in the character. "It changed when I couldn't choose you anymore, because you were gone."

Lexa gaped at her words, and she could see a flash of emotion in the woman's eyes that was swiftly, though not completely blinked away. "What?"

"I _lost_ you. You stopped having time for me. We never talked, because you were never around, or if you were you were sleeping. You stopped calling me in the middle of the day to check up on me and...and tell me you love me. You stopped leaving me those cute and goofy notes around the house. It's the big stuff too, but so much of the little things just _stopped_ , and...and I lost you. All I had left was being a doctor." Clarke explained, voice thick with emotion, tears spilling through her eyelashes and down her cheeks. She was curious as to how Lexa would manage to turn that around in her favor, if she even _could_ , but for the moment, she needed to try to stem the tide of her emotions because she was spiraling into her character and she needed to keep control.

She expected another retort, maybe Monty stepping in.

Lexa's hand reaching across the table and covering hers was entirely out of the blue and, as Clarke recovered from the warm sensation it stirred inside of her, an entirely ingenious move. But it was the sniffle and hitched breath that had Clarke refocusing on Lexa's face, which had, in mere moments, transformed into the epitome of agony and remorse, tears freely coursing down her cheeks, the woman's deep green eyes overflowing with remorse and pain.

"Clarke..." Lexa started, voice cracking and splintering on her name, only for a brief jolt of hope to stir in her eyes. It took a moment for Clarke to realize she was rubbing her thumb across Lexa's hand, which she stopped for the moment, but that gave the woman enough strength to push onward. "How do we get back to good? I don't want to lose you."

Clarke's eyes darted to Monty for some reprieve from the scenario for a moment. He looked entirely uncertain and awkward, and just shrugged at her. Such an excellent mediator.

"Lexa, you need to let me go. I can't take any more broken promises..." Clarke started up, shaky syllables escaping her, words stilling in her throat as Lexa squeezed her hand.

"Then they _won't_ be. Our plan from forever ago...it's not working for you, so it's not working for me. We're a team. We can still make it through this...just please work with me. Tell me what you need." Lexa asked, almost begged, really.

Clarke jutted her jaw to the side as she considered her options. She was still on the side of leaving, obviously, but she couldn't just ignore the chance at reviving their relationship. "I need you. And not just you, physically present, I need you and your mind, and your laughter, and all the parts of you I love. If you're going to be around more, but still in work mode, still on your phone, still blocking me out, then that's not enough. I need you. I need our date nights. I need...I need to at least see you before I leave for a shift, or when I come home after one. If I'm sticking around here after I graduate med school in two months, then I need more of you, because I'm so alone here compared to back in Baltimore."

Lexa's eyes wavered from side to side as the woman sunk deep into her thoughts, brow furrowing more and more as seconds ticked by. It was the longest wait between responses by far, and Clarke was so close to breaking with how dejected she was feeling at the lack of an answer. Emotionally or not, she was invested in this relationship, in this role-play, and she wasn't going to give in even if it hurt.

A half minute later, Lexa's expression cleared with a heavy exhale, the woman nodding to herself before meeting Clarke's eyes with a determined stare that practically screamed to the heavens with the yearning Lexa was exuding.

"Clarke, I'm...I'm sorry. It's not enough, but I _am_ , and...and I was too prideful. I got a taste of success and I chased it up the ladder and never stopped to think what I was doing to you. I took you for..." Lexa started, choking back a literal sob, and okay, maybe Clarke started stroking her hand again. " _I took you for granted_ , Clarke, and focused on the next promotion while the light in your eyes withered away, and I'll _never_ forgive myself for that."

Clarke nodded at her words, warmth blooming in her chest at the sincerity of her remorse, of the clear understanding of how they'd grown apart. Maybe she sandwiched Lexa's hand between her own. Her character deserved it, at least.

"I want you to be happy. I want to be happy with you. I thought this was how we'd get there, but...but I was wrong, and I miss you, too, and things need to change." Lexa continued, swallowing hard nodding to herself again. "What if...so there's a firm over in Annapolis. One of the partners, Indra Reed tried headhunting me last year. What if I convince her to take me in over there? That way, when you finish med school, you'll have your pick of hospitals to intern at in Baltimore with all the people you know back home, and you'll have your friends and family to visit, and...and maybe we can start over?"

The sheer earnestness in Lexa's voice, the hesitant hope shining in her eyes, it all stole Clarke's breath as she wondered what would come of Lexa's work she'd spent so much time on.

"But wouldn't...wouldn't that set you back, career-wise?" Clarke asked, choosing that question over the dozen or so others popping into her head.

Lexa shook her head and smiled ruefully, lower lip trembling and breaths coming out shallow, tears dripping off her chin. "Two years, maybe. But I'll eat two years if it gives me a chance to spend the rest of my life with the woman I love. You've sacrificed too much already, Clarke...let me do this for us. I love you."

Maybe it was the quality acting that had been playing with her emotions, maybe it was madness, but her body leaned forward across the small table, arm stretching out, fingertips pressing at the underside of Lexa's chin and drawing her in for a kiss.

The first thought through her mind as she moved her lips against Lexa's was that her fellow actress was a fantastic kisser. The second was that she could feel Lexa's lower lip trembling against hers, so maybe she put some focus on taking the lead and brushing her fingers affectionately across Lexa's cheek to calm her down.

Those were the only thoughts able to break the surface until a loud clearing of the throat had them bolting apart, the prof staring down at them with a curious expression.

"Well...I suppose that's one way to settle a conflict!" The man noted with a laugh before turning away and heading off to supervise another table.

Halfway terrified of what she'd done and the consequences, even if her lips were pleasantly abuzz and her heart hammering in her chest for reasons unrelated to her fear, Clarke's eyes shot to Lexa. Lexa, who was practically radiating intensity, a deeply focused stare fixated on the table between them, brows furrowed and jaw hitched to the side.

 _Shit shit shit shit..._ Clarke raged internally, knowing she'd supremely fucked up, that there wouldn't be any coming back from that. Lexa was clearly upset, and all because Clarke had gotten a bit too into the role-play and made a mistake. _She was just so...so passionate and remorseful, and I could tell she wanted to make it work, and I could practically see the love in her eyes...god..._

In hindsight, she knew it was an act, but she went for it anyways. It was infuriating, but Lexa reeled her in with that performance and kept her in character, and if that wasn't a sign of her rival's talent, she didn't know what was.

"Anyways, everyone return to your seats, the exercise is over. I want to hear about some of your results, where you left off, where you hit snags, what techniques the mediator could have used more effectively..." The prof droned on as Clarke hazily made her way back to where she'd been sitting, eyes down and averted, wishing the world would swallow her up.

Of all people to get too deep in an exercise with, Lexa was the worst. Not only was the woman her rival, but Lexa was, like, some weird martial arts geek and would probably punch her out for kissing her out of the blue like that, for accidentally taking advantage of the scenario like that.

It was hard to focus from there on out, the last fifteen minutes of class passing in a blur, knowing Lexa must have been seething mad at her for her stunt. _Maybe I'll go into hiding...if I do and Lexa gets the role for the play, maybe she'll forgive me and go easy on me. I just...why did she have to be so convincing? Why did she have to go along with it and keep pushing me to get more entrenched in the character? Why...why did her lips have to be so goddamn soft?_

As soon as the clock hit five to two, Clarke was out of her seat, taking long, fast strides out the door and down the hall, wanting to get as far away as possible. She'd just turned the corner towards the stairwells and elevators when she heard Lexa bark her name out.

"Clarke!"

She allowed herself a deep, steadying inhale before turning around to face the firing squad, mouth open with an apology on the tip of her tongue before Lexa's lips and tongue dashed any thoughts of begging forgiveness, or well, any actual thoughts at all other than holding Lexa close and leading them back to the nearby wall for some stability.

When they eventually parted, it was with foreheads pressed together, sharing heavy breaths to compel their overworked lungs to recover, swollen lips an inch apart. "God, it's annoying how talented you are. Acting, kissing, what's next?"

"You give me too much credit. You were the one that dragged me into character." Lexa protested.

"Yeah, where you got me lost in my character enough to kiss you. You're ridiculous." Clarke shot back with a laugh, considering giving Lexa a light push away before she figured holding her tighter was a better bet. "Just take the compliment."

"Not until you agree you were phenomenal. You actually had me feeling i was losing someone important from my life for a second. Like...god, Clarke. Why do you have to be so good? And then your eyes, and your touch, and..." Lexa started, seeming to come to some realization midway through given how she clammed up mid-sentence.

Clarke reluctantly lifted a hand from the small of Lexa's back up to the woman's cheek, brushing the backside of her hand against the soft, smooth skin. "What were you saying about my eyes?"

Lexa's eyes remained averted, face growing redder by the second. "Mesmerizing. They're mesmerizing, Clarke."

"Then why aren't you looking at them? Why aren't you looking at me?" Clarke prodded with a smile, never having seen the shy, less confident side of Lexa before.

"Because this was an acting exercise. And I've always gotten the feeling you hated me." Lexa answered, eyes still frustratingly downcast.

Deciding a different approach was in order, Clarke moved her hand to the underside of Lexa's chin and tapped there with her fingertips. "Lexa, look at me." She asked, tapping again, happy that after a moment's hesitation, those big, beautiful forest green eyes met her own. "We were rivals. Maybe we're _still_ rivals. But I respect the hell out of your skill, and you're really beautiful, and a fantastic kisser, and I want to get to know you. So I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner tonight?"

Watching Lexa's face transform had her knees feeling weak, the woman beaming back at her with the brightest damn eyes and smile she'd ever seen in her life. "I'd love to, Clarke."

Clarke pushed aside the butterflies in her stomach, knowing she could focus on them soon enough. "Great! Well, I have your number from rehearsals and all, so I'll call you later, then. I should probably get to class I'm..." Clarke looked down at her watch, eyes bugging at the time. "Twelve minutes late for class."

Lexa leaned forward, pressing her lips to Clarke's cheek. "Have a good class, Clarke. I'll listen for your call." She added as Clarke stepped away down the hall.

"You'd better!" Clarke called out over her shoulder before rushing down the stairwell, hoping she hadn't missed anything too important in organic chemistry.

Though honestly, she couldn't help but feel her focus wouldn't be on topic when she did arrive, the evening's date with Lexa looming along with all the details of the plan she'd have to work out for it. It made her afternoon a bit more hectic, but she wouldn't change it for the world, having a date with a pretty girl to cap it off. Even if that pretty girl _was_ her rival.

* * *

 **A/N: So this was quickly written while stressing about the election. I'm so sorry for any of you who are American, you deserved a much better result last night than what you got.**

 **I hope this was enough to help boost morale a bit. It's not much, but I figured a cute one-shot couldn't hurt.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Pairing: Clarke/Anya**

 **Clarke and Anya enjoy their Girlfriend's Day together and stumble into a much deeper affection for each other, and into something entirely unexpected. (Sequel to Chapter 6)**

 **Romantic Fluff, Carnival, minor homophobia**

* * *

Clarke woke to a loud bang and a swarm of something light impacting against her face, but it was Raven's maniacal laughter that truly swept her fully into consciousness.

"Rise and shine, fuckers! And maybe in the literal sense." Raven announced gleefully as Clarke sat up and groaned, wiping confetti off of her face. One glance at Anya showed the woman had just buried herself under the covers.

Clarke looked Raven over, cocking her eyebrow at the veritable cannon in her arms. "What the fuck, Raven?"

"Someone bought a confetti cannon for last night's party, but no one used it. And it's almost noon, so I figured I'd wake you, but then I saw you had a late night caller, and..." Raven started, sounding like she was going to have one of her lengthy descriptions of her genius, and honestly, Clarke was not in the mood.

"Raven, Anya had a conference call this morning at like, four-thirty. And when she finished, she made me breakfast. And damn it, she needs to catch up on sleep, she's running on an hour and a half at best." Clarke explained slowly, hoping that the magnitude of Raven's actions would become clear to her friend.

Thankfully, Raven's face turned ashen. "Anya...as in...Lincoln's sister...as in...the owner of this fine cottage, and probably this confetti cannon."

"I'll make you a deal, Raven. You leave now, and I won't drag you down to the water and drown you." Anya offered, voice muffled a bit from under the covers.

Raven's eyes flickered back and forth between Clarke and the lump before the woman's posture straightened. "My bad. Rest up ladies...but I'm taking the cannon."

With that Raven rushed off, leaving Clarke free to take hold of the covers and carefully empty most of the confetti onto the floor beside the bed. "Sorry about her. She's...enthusiastic, and sometimes obnoxious."

"Mmmmh. S'okay. You have weird friends, Lincoln's marrying one." Anya mumbled, arms wrapping around Clarke's hips.

Clarke took advantage of their proximity and flung the covers away, surprising a bleary-eyed Anya. It wasn't difficult to sink down further on the bed and press a quick kiss to the woman's lips. "It's gonna be noon, and I wanted to give you a good morning kiss."

Anya took hold of the covers and brought them over her head, bringing a laugh out of Clarke. "Oh, come on babe, what's up?"

"You're too adorable, Clarke." Anya declared from behind her shield of Egyptian cotton.

Clarke grinned at the lump and tried to pull the sheets away. "Naaaah, you just got surprised, and you liked it enough to blush."

It didn't take much until Anya's head was uncovered again, the red-cheeked woman letting out an annoyed huff as she squeezed her eyes shut. "Nope. You're just too adorable, my eyes can't take it."

Clarke reared up for a moment, remembering back to just before they'd fallen asleep earlier. "Well, you don't have to look..." Clarke started, as she flung her sleep tee off and tossed it away towards the end of the bed. Carefully, she shimmied out of her shorts and settled back down under the covers, taking great enjoyment in the confusion across Anya's face. "...but maybe it's conceited to say that I think touching's a bit better with eye contact, don't you think?"

With that, she took hold of Anya's nearest hand and brought it to her left breast, holding it there until Anya's sharp gasp faded and those warm brown eyes met her own. "There you are. See? Much better."

"You're still adorable." Anya noted quietly, teeth pinching hard into her lower lip. "You're also, uh...well, you're also very beautiful, Clarke." The woman added before sharply turning her head away and taking in a deep breath. Anya's apparent need to remain polite was entirely endearing.

"Mmmmn, thank you, babe. But don't sell yourself short with all this shyness...you were a vision when you walked in here." Clarke spoke, smiling brightly when Anya took in a hitched breath and dared a confused glance her way. "Yes, you. Can't say you didn't look the part of a domestic goddess with that crop top and your yoga pants."

Anya let out an amused scoff. "Yeah, I'm sure I looked like a real winner."

"Don't diss the casual look. I guarantee you, I could net a fancily dressed one night stand whenever if I really wanted to. I'm not looking for that." Clarke explained as she pulled Anya close, resting their foreheads together. "I'm looking for the kind of woman who cares enough to forgo sleep and instead make breakfast on the pure hope that I'd go out with her based on a throwaway tumblr post. That's a risk taker, that's someone who knows what she wants. Most importantly, that's someone with heart. And when a woman like that walks into your life carrying a tray of food, and makes a slightly ratty crop top and yoga pants look fresh off the runway? Well, I gotta think that's someone special."

Anya's eyes managed to be soft and intense at the same time as she held her gaze, Clarke noticing them growing glassier by the second. "My ex told me I looked like a hobo in them."

"Well I'd still be holding you and kissing you if you were a hobo, even if I'd miss your bed." Clarke countered with a small laugh, grinning wide and trying to goad Anya into doing the same. "I know we're pretty new, but I'd like to think I know you enough to say that. I've been told I'm a good judge of character."

"You're still here with me, so I suppose you are." Anya said, smile spreading across her lips. "You're sweet, with all the reassurance. I don't know why I'm feeling like this."

Clarke fluttered a brief kiss on Anya's lips and let out a happy sigh. "Normal to feel some nerves, getting back in the saddle again. Don't worry, baby, I've got you."

Anya ducked her head down into Clarke's neck and curled up against her. "You feel incredible, Clarke. I'm just really in need of more sleep. Just a little more."

"You don't have to apologize. I'm comfy as hell, with a beautiful woman in my arms, in the most comfortable bed on Earth. I could stay here all day if I needed to, so take your time. Rest up. We can grab food and figure out the rest of the day when you wake." Clarke answered, warmth blooming throughout her body at the happy sigh that washed against her neck and the way Anya seemed to want every square inch of their bodies to be touching.

Besides, another hour of brainstorming how to kill Raven was time well spent.

* * *

Clarke was about as excited as she'd ever been in the past year as they drove towards D.C. She'd slept on the best bed in the history of beds, she'd been asked out by a wonderful woman who she'd napped the morning away with, she'd grabbed a tasty lunch with said woman, and now they were aimlessly venturing forth, looking for a way to spend the rest of their afternoon.

She'd left her mom two messages, letting her know she'd be home for dinner and to make extra for a guest, so Clarke was officially worry free as they veered onto I-66.

"Oh my god!" Clarke exclaimed as she finally caught sight of something interesting on her phone. "There's a fair nearby, we should totally go!"

Anya grinned, lifting an eyebrow. "A fair? You won't make me pet an emu, will you?"

The thought had Clarke smiling, but if Anya had a thing against emus, she wouldn't push it. "Nah, we wouldn't be there too long if we wanted to make it back for dinner, but it might be nice to go on a few rides, play some games together..." Clarke started, blushing hard as Anya began to laugh. "Don't laugh! It's a good place to continue a date!"

"I'm not disagreeing, Clarke. I think it's a good idea." Anya conceded, grin still holding.

"Then why were you laughing?" Clarke asked nudging Anya's shoulder a bit.

Anya just shook her head. "For some reason I was imagining you with a full arm sleeve of those cheesy temporary press-on tattoos."

"Oh my god, I should do that!" Clarke noted happily, laughing at the wide-eyed concern in Anya's face. "Not today, goober. Don't want my mom to think you're a bad influence."

"I still can't believe you're having me meet your mother on our first date." Anya laughed as Clarke put the fair's location into the car's GPS.

Twenty minutes later, they rolled up on the Loudoun County Fair, and while it wasn't the best first impression and far had ever given her, it definitely looked like it could be a good time.

"Come on!" Clarke called, rounding the car and grabbing hold of Anya's hand once her date got out of the car. "Want to try the rides first?"

Anya rolled her eyes, but the brightness of her grin had Clarke feeling like she was on cloud nine. "I'm game if you are."

* * *

As it turned out, Anya was not as game as Clarke expected, but it was a little endearing that her date kept trying the rides despite clearly being a little motion sick. One trip on Round Up, one on the Hanger, and one on Quasar, and Clarke decided to give Anya a bit of a break, leading her to the ferris wheel.

"It's...it's okay, Clarke. I can handle more rides if you like." Anya protested weakly, clearly not dead set on that plan, it being more of a selfless offer.

Clarke angled Anya around for a quick kiss, followed by a firm stare. "We're here to have a good time, and I don't want you to get sick on our first date. Okay? So long as I'm with you, I'm good."

Anya ducked her head slightly, cheeks blooming endearingly red again. "So it's been a good Girlfriend's Day?"

"Best I've had in my entire life!" Clarke shot back with a cheeky grin, Anya shoving her into the ferris wheel lineup in turn.

"This is the only one you've had, Clarke." Anya noted flatly as she joined Clarke in line.,

Clarke brought up a hand and cupped Anya's cheek, brushing a thumb across her lower lip. "I've had a really great day so far, Anya. I've got a good feeling that it's gonna get better."

A few minutes later, they found themselves seated in the big mechanical rig, starting their slow ascent. Anya had taken her hand as they got in, shooting her a warm smile, though as they got higher, that grip tightened, as did Anya's facial features.

"Anya, babe, you could have said no." Clarke cooed, brushing her date's hair aside and kissing her ear.

"You were looking forward to it. I can deal with my discomfort of heights." Anya stated, sending a reassuring smile her way that was a little too tight at the edges for her to feel comfortable with.

"Why don't we take your mind off of it, baby?" Clarke asked, pulling Anya into a long, languid kiss, doing what she could despite the seating arrangement to hold Anya close and give her as much affection as she could, running her free hand through the woman's hair, grazing her knuckles across her cheek, anything to ease her tension.

Honestly, maybe she got a little too caught up in it, because she and Anya were a little jostled as they came to a halt, their ferris wheel journey ended. She wasn't put off, feeling a bit invigorated from the kiss, and from knowing they had some games ahead of them.

She gripped Anya's hand again and led her away from the ride, only for older woman to step in their path. "I don't appreciate you or your friend doing what you did in front of my son."

Clarke was a little startled, it'd been a good year and a half since she'd had to face down a bigot, so maybe she hesitated. Thankfully, while it was a little hard not knocking the woman on her ass, a counterargument was ripe for the picking.

"Well, I see you haven't broken up the all-stars over there who have been making out for the past half hour, so maybe you come for them before you come for us." Clarke grit out, pointing to a guy and girl who seemed to be making out in the same spot she saw them in ten minutes ago, twenty five minutes ago, and forty minutes ago. Anya's squeeze of her hand only shifted her focus to her date. "And besides, how could I not kiss her?"

Anya rolled her eyes even as she blushed yet again. "Clarke..."

Deciding to push home her point, she cupped Anya's cheeks and pulled her in for a flurry of quick kisses. "She's..." _kiss_ "...just..." _kiss_ "...so..." _kiss_ "...kissable!"

By the time she pulled away from her third kiss, the angry bigot had stormed off with her kid in tow, immediately brightening her mood. "Well that solves that. But you _are_ really kissable, Anya."

"You're just saying that." Anya murmured, teeth sinking into her bottom lip, watchful eyes gauging Clarke's reaction.

It was honestly a laughably transparent ploy, but she adored Anya for trying. "You're a wily one, aren't you?" Clarke asked, eyes narrowing at her date in suspicion. "You just want me to kiss you again."

"Well you did say I'm very kissable. Of course, I'm not about to claim you're a _liar_ , but..." Anya started airily, not able to finish her sentence with Clarke's lips on hers, stealing all her words away.

"Come on babe, let's win some prizes." Clarke said, smiling against Anya's lips, the butterflies in her stomach leading her to think that maybe Girlfriend's Day was the best day ever, and that maybe she wanted to win Anya something in one of the carnival games.

Anya just laughed, letting Clarke drag her away to more fun.

* * *

"This is _ridiculous_."

Clarke laughed in agreement, even if she was going off an entirely different point than Anya was as her date put the toy gun down with a huff.

"You are the worst shot I've ever seen, babe!" Clarke laughed, doubling over and bracing herself on the counter as Anya glared at the wall of prizes she'd been denied for the third straight time.

"I've never liked guns, anyway." Anya grumbled, turning away from the game's storefront, arms crossed over her chest, hugging the stuffed animal Clarke had won her a half hour ago.

Clarke fought through her laughter to move and hug her date from behind. "Baby, it was a water gun."

"A gun is a gun, Clarke." Anya let out firmly, frowning down at the fluffy lion in her arms. It was preposterous how cute Anya could be. The woman had been quietly thrilled when Clarke had won and gifted her the lion. Anya had been a huge mess, trying to win her something in return, and as funny as her terrible aim was, it was too cute how dedicated she was to evening the score up and getting her something to commemorate their date with, too.

Clarke looked around, eyes scanning for something Anya might be better at, eventually honing in on one that even had a prize she might like taking home. "Why don't you give the whack a mole thing a try? It might be more your speed."

Anya's brow furrowed in thought. "Hmmm...I _am_ good with my hands." Clarke's eyebrows shot up, a wide smile spreading on her lips until Anya caught on and shot her an amused glare. "Mind out of the gutter, Clarke."

"Who, _me_? Pshh..." Clarke protested as she led Anya over to the booth and set her up for a game. Anya stared down at the game and picked up the mallet, looking it over. Her concentration was too cute not to reward, Clarke lightly pulling her date's head in closer, pressing her lips to Anya's cheek. "Kiss for good luck."

Anya hummed happily and stood in front of her part of the game, waiting for it to start.

Clarke hadn't been sure what to expect, but Anya was _fast_ , hitting every little fake mole the moment its head peaked above the hole. When a shrill sound left the machine, telling her she'd gotten a perfect score, Anya looked adorably confused.

"What? That's it?" Anya asked as the man running the game came over asking what prize she wanted. Honestly, Anya seemed nearly too perplexed at the fact she'd won something, but when she whispered into Anya's ear that she wanted the big yellow fox, Anya's head was on a swivel searching for it. "That one, please." Anya eventually said after spotting it in the crowd of stuffed animals pointing at it off in the back.

As soon as Anya passed her the big fox, Clarke had her in a tight hug, happy Anya's won and happy that her date melted into her embrace. "Thank you."

Anya ducked her head when she eventually stepped back. "I didn't want to leave here with you empty-handed. I wanted you to have something to remember this. I was just so bad at the games with the guns."

"Mmmn, but you're good with your hands." Clarke shot back, wiggling her eyebrows and biting her lip.

Anya rolled her eyes and pulled Clarke in for a loose one-armed hug, careful not to crush their winnings again. "Why the fox?"

Clarke let out a shrug, knowing she could spend ten minutes explaining, but Anya didn't need to know how deep she was already getting. "Reminds me of you."

Anya face-palmed and let out a groan. "Ughhhh, you're too adorable for your own good, Clarke."

"Excuse you, but I'm _exactly_ the _right_ amount of adorable, thank you." Clarke protested with a laugh. "Besides, when you walked in this morning with breakfast in your arms, looking all cute as hell, that's what you signed up for. No take backs!"

Anya shook her head and took hold of her hand once more. "I wouldn't dream of it. Anyway, it's starting to get late. Do you want to stick around, or should we head to your mom's?"

Clarke froze in place, suddenly remembering the dinner. "Right! Yeah, we should...we should probably get going. She hates when I'm late."

She glanced down at her watch, hoping and praying that the traffic wouldn't be abysmal. They still had a chance at making it home in time. She only hoped that her mom got her messages.

* * *

Anya was about as nervous as she'd ever been, walking up to Clarke's home, knowing her mother was somewhere behind that front door. She'd been to business meetings with some of the most powerful people in the world, but Clarke's mother had her on edge.

For months, she'd been too shy to approach Clarke. She'd check the other woman's Tumblr, her Instagram, she'd see her at the occasional party, hear Lexa talk about her when she visited. It'd all started from Lexa saying she thought the both of them could be cute together; it'd been an off-hand remark, but Lexa's words got her wondering, given she'd only seen Clarke at two parties from a distance, and heard the occasional remark or story about her.

And the more she wondered, the more she thought that maybe she should try to date again. That maybe she could see about Clarke. Two weeks later, Clarke made her infamous Tumblr post, and she put her plan into action with some help from Lincoln and Lexa.

So maybe she was nervous and a little worried. The entire day had been so mindblowingly wonderful that she didn't want it to end, and Abby not liking her would throw a wrench into things, because she really liked Clarke.

"Ready, babe?" Clarke asked, looking to her for a sign that they could head on in, forcing Anya to wonder just how long they'd been standing outside the door.

Anya gave a nod and braced herself, knowing she'd just have to do her best and hope it was enough.

Clarke swung the door open and ushered her inside, head on a swivel. "That's _strange_...I think I..." Clarke noted softly, padding lightly down the hall slowly, cautiously, occasionally glancing back at Anya in confusion at the suddenly obvious other sounds filling the house.

Sounds of a struggle.

Clarke led her through the home to the stairwell upstairs, stopping just beside it. Anya watched Clarke count down from three, both of their bodies tense and ready. Clarke was the first around the corner and up to the first landing in the stairwell.

In retrospect, Anya wished it was her, as Clarke let out a loud scream and stumbled backwards, falling into Anya's arms. As soon as she was able to look up the stairwell, she lifted a hand to cover Clarke's eyes and guided her out of the stairwell, Clarke eventually breaking free and marching out into the backyard to let out a piercing scream.

Anya could hear Raven's gentle laughter mixing with who she could only imagine was Clarke's mother's panicked cursing. It definitely was not going to be a standard 'meet the parents' dinner. On the plus side, there was no way Clarke's mom could hold anything over her head or criticize her after that, which eased a good deal of her nerves on that matter.

On the other hand, Clarke was potentially scarred for life, having caught her close friend and mother screwing on the stairs.

She could hear some muttered conversation from the stairwell, followed eventually by Clarke's mother padding over to Anya's side in the dining room, focus on the backyard where Clarke was pacing a veritable trench in the backyard.

"Who are you again?" The woman asked, eyes stuck on Clarke.

"Anya. Clarke's new girlfriend." Anya answered, letting out a long exhale as Clarke turned towards the house, face knit with rage. "I wish we were meeting under more pleasant circumstances."

"Two more minutes and the pleasure would have been all hers!" Raven called out from the stairwell, and honestly, Anya had to wonder how Clarke found such obnoxious friends.

"Raven, you have to deal with this mess, too! Are you coming or not?!" Clarke's mom yelled back as Clarke slowly approached the house again.

"Not _yet_!" Raven retorted suggestively, all the nuance of a sledgehammer in her wordplay.

Clarke slammed open the back door and pointed a sharp finger at her mother. " _You_! What the _hell_ , mom?!" Clarke raged, stabbing her finger at her mom's chest. "I...I go up and down those stairs _every day_! How do you expect me to ever get to my room with the image of you and...and... _fuck_ , you have to buy me a ladder! And that's just for _starters_...what the hell even gave..."

"Go easy on Abby, Clarke, she couldn't help it any more than I could." Raven said as she emerged from the stairwell, wearing a rather risque-looking night robe. "Two women with top-tier minds, skilled hands, and hot bodies? It was inevitable."

Clarke prowled over to Raven giving her a full look over. "What's _inevitable_ is your _murder_ , Reyes. You fuck my mom in the damn stairwell and have the...the _nerve_ to raid my closet and cover up in my special occasions robe?! "

"In my defense, your mother literally tore the clothes off of my body like, thirty-five min..." Raven protested, Clarke anguished and confused scream piercing the air and cutting her off.

"What Raven means to say is that we didn't know you'd be home tonight, or at least not so early." Abby offered hesitantly, and Anya swore internally that if she ever managed to get Clarke to look so furiously at her as she did to her mom then and there, she'd probably die.

"That does NOT make it any better holy SHIT. And I left you messages! Multiple phone messages!" Clarke yelled, hand combing erratically through her hair.

Anya moved to Clarke's side, knowing it wasn't her place to police her girlfriend's reaction, but Clarke could clearly use some support. Cautiously, she made her way behind Clarke and wrapped her arms around her waist, perching her chin on the other blonde's shoulder. To her immense relief, Clarke sank back into the embrace ever so slightly.

"That's completely my fault. I told her you'd probably be gone all day because it was Girlfriend's Day and you'd be having a romantic dinner with your lady friend." Raven admitted with a shrug. "Which stressed her out, which is why I came over. Can't hate your mom for getting some patented Reyes Relief."

"Oh my god, Raven..." Abby groaned as Anya cooed nonsense in Clarke's ear, fighting to hold her in place so she wouldn't kill her friend in cold blood.

"See, that sounds better when we're alone, maybe another glass of wine in us, and..." Raven started, but Anya had honestly had enough, given the morning and now this.

"Raven, enough. Clarke and her mother need a serious discussion and you're only derailing it." Anya insisted, earning an immediate scoff, Raven crossing her arms.

"These two know I joke when I'm stressed, it's all good." Raven stated, which might have been news to her, but it still didn't change that Clarke looked like she wanted to commit murder.

"Oh, it's not all good. Not even close." Clarke grit out.

Raven gave a slow nod in concession. "Okay, okay, but like...let's look at the meat and bones of it. You had sex today. Anya had sex today. You mother had sex today, and I had sex today. I think it'd be a little hypocritical to criticize us for it in the middle of an eleven month relationship when you and Anya, like, literally just met last night."

"We _didn't_ have sex, and...and this is _my mom_ , Raven. Mom, this is one of my _best friends_! Eleven fucking months?!" Clarke yelled, breath hitching as some of that rage burned away into something a little closer to the heart. "Why didn't you tell me?" Clarke shot at her mom, voice cracking a little.

Anya kissed Clarke's temple as Abby fought for words, looking tired and defeated. "I...I don't have an excuse. I've wanted to for months, I just...I was worried...we were worried...about how you'd take it."

"I would have taken it a whole lot better without seeing you two naked on the stairs! The stairs I walk up and down _multiple times a day_...stairs which I can _never_ use again!" Clarke argued with an angry huff, one arm reaching down to cover Anya's, holding the both of them in place.

"We didn't want you to think I was gonna, like...be _another mother_ to you or anything, you know? Cause I would _totally_ be the cool, fun mom, and I wouldn't do that to Abby, because she's fun in her _own_ kind of...okay, you know I'll let that joke go, I can see the murder eyes you're giving me, Griffin." Raven explained a little warily as she slowly went to Abby's side. "But like, let me be the mom friend, okay?"

Clarke's growl was answer enough.

"Mom friends don't give their friends a trio of shots and tell them not to worry because, and I quote, _'fuck tomorrow'_." Anya added in agreement with Clarke, who just grunted and nodded in kind.

Clarke took in a deep breath and shifted her focus between her mom and Raven. "And tomorrow's _today_...and I've had an amazing day up 'til now. _Incredible_ , even. And...and I _want_ to be happy for you both, but I caught you _fucking_...on the _stairs_...and it'd be one thing if you told me, but I had to find out like _that_ , and...and see my _mom_ like that! And...fuck, Raven's ruined my five hundred dollar robe I splurged on for special occasions, and I'll have to burn it now, and I need a ladder to get downstairs because I can't...I can't do it, it's just...and I _can't_ have any gossip or details about anything not superficial about this because it'll remind me of _right now_ and how you _ruined_ my childhood home, and bring up worries of what _else_ you had sex on, and..."

"Don't answer that, Raven." Anya and Abby piped up at the same time upon seeing Raven's mouth open. Thankfully, the woman didn't press the issue.

"...and I just...I wanted to bring Anya home...for dinner...to meet you. And then...ugh. This is such a mess." Clarke let out, sinking back into Anya as she sighed.

Abby stepped closer, enough to take Clarke's free hand. "You want to be happy for us?"

Clarke exhaled an exasperated huff, shooting her wide-eyed frustration at her mom. "Of course I do! I've always wanted you to get back into dating, I wanted you to find love again. And Raven, I always just wanted you to be with someone who treats you right and makes you happy. So yeah...it's a little messed up that one of my best friends is dating my mom, and it means you'll never be able to talk to me about your relationship in any detail, or about your fights, but...I want to be happy for you if this is serious."

Clarke's mom's relief was palpable, the woman stepping forward and wrapping her arms around Clarke's neck. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear that."

"Mom, I love you, you know I do, okay?" Clarke asked, earning a nod from Abby when she stepped out of the hug. "But you really need a shower, you smell like sex and it makes me feel like going back to the yelling place again."

Abby nodded quickly. "I, uh...I should do that. And then I'll cook up something to eat."

"I'll help with the food when you're done showering. You don't need to do it all yourself, Mrs Griffin." Anya noted, earning a delayed nod from the woman.

"Yeah, Raven and I could use a little one on one chat. About damages and reparations." Clarke added firmly.

Raven just shook her head and laughed. "Yeah, I guess we should do that. But speaking of showering, I really should get to it, too."

Clarke fixed a glare on Raven, needing no words to tell her friend to use the downstairs bathroom instead of the ensuite in Abby's bedroom.

Anya held Clarke close until Abby and Raven whisked themselves away to shower, knowing it'd been a big moment the woman to navigate through. She carefully let go, leaving one hand knit with Clarke's as she led her to the living room and sat them down on the couch.

Clarke settled down onto it for a moment before a flash of realization shot across her face, the blonde moving to stand again. Anya kept hold of her hand and gave it a little tug. "Hey, don't think about it."

"I can't not think about it." Clarke whined, and Anya quickly learned that Clarke's pout could probably make her do anything. It was a dangerous realization of her own. "This is my home and nothing's safe and pure anymore."

"Would it be cliché of me to say you could always stay with me as long as you needed?" Anya asked, actually earning a laugh for the first time in a while from the apple of her eye.

"U-Haul much? But...yeah, I might have to take you up on that." Clarke admitted, cheeks blooming pink. "But...the bed?"

Anya shrugged. "I could stay in a guest bedroom. Or if you were okay sharing a bed, I'd be perfectly okay with either decision. I just want you to feel safe and not have to worry about triggering...troublesome thoughts."

Clarke hesitated for a moment, giving Anya a thoughtful look that stretched on before Clarke plopped down onto her lap. "I might have to have a hard drink tonight when we get back to your place."

"I'd completely understand, and I'd probably join you." Anya agreed with a smile that only grew as Clarke cuddled up onto her.

"And I might want to find a home for my fox and your lion." Clarke added softly, nose nuzzling into Anya's neck.

"I'd expect nothing less than the best for them, Clarke." Anya concurred, arms wrapping around Clarke, entirely content with having the blonde beauty in her arms. "You're kind of my girlfriend, I suppose. I'll do whatever I can for you."

Clarke laughed, shaking with giggles in her arms. "' _Kind of_ '? You ' _suppose_ '? I was sort of waiting until after dinner to cement it, but...I really do want to be your girlfriend, Anya. Not just for today."

Anya smiled, tilting Clarke's shin down into a languid kiss, adoring the way her girlfriend channeled so much of herself into their kisses, how her hands were always finding ways to give Anya more and more affection. "I really want to be your girlfriend, too."

"Then it's a done deal, baby. You're my girl, and we're gonna be living together, and...and I'm really going to try and focus on _all's well that ends well_ , because otherwise I'll strangle Raven at dinner, and I want to go to bed with you tonight, not spend it in lock-up." Clarke murmured against her lips, fluttering kisses across her face as she held on tighter.

"Well that sounds like a plan if I ever heard one." Anya whispered back. "Do you need me to get anything from your room for you? Because I can do that."

Clarke hesitated for a moment and then nodded firmly. "Yeah. Yeah."

"Let me know after dinner, okay? And if you want, after repayment from Raven, I can call Lexa and Octavia to help you pick out something new for yourself? Or a few things, after today's stress? I don't really spend my money, and if it'll give you some happiness, then please, treat yourself." Anya offered, earning a lingering kiss to her cheek.

"So _sweet_ , my girlfriend. I'd like that...Lexa and O helping with something new, at least. And if I do end up getting extra...well, I'll make sure you get a private viewing." Clarke's words had Anya feeling altogether much too warm, another languid kiss doing nothing to douse the embers sparking inside of her.

"Do I need to fire another confetti cannon, or are you two just huddling for warmth in this mid-summer heat?" Raven chimed in, driving a spike through the sexual tension for the moment.

Anya peered over her shoulder. "Friendly reminder that you're only _borrowing_ my confetti cannon."

"Friendly warning that I'm improving on its design and it's going to be so much more epic." Raven shot back as she rounded into the kitchen wearing a towel.

Clarke let out a groan. "That just means you broke it and you're trying to fix it."

"Okay it literally doesn't matter if the cannon's broken if I'm improving on its design and it'll be awesome and perfectly not broken the next time Anya sees it." Raven contested, and Anya could only roll her eyes, wondering what kind of shenanigans she got herself into dating Clarke Griffin.

Yet, she wouldn't change any of it for the world.

The whole National Girlfriend's Day thing had been a gamble, but she was confident she'd never make a better one in her life, and even if every day was as wild as their first together, Anya would happily face it all down with Clarke at her side.

She just hoped they all survived through dinner.

* * *

 **A/N: Okay so I got a request from HedaLeksa31 on FFnet over a potential addition to chapter 6, and I'd already thought up some vague ways I'd progress it, so I decided to just jump in and try to churn something out tonight. I hope you all enjoyed this one. Thanks for reading!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Pairing: Clarke/Anya**

 **Prompt: I work at the local blood bank that's vampire friendly. I think you're trying to euphemistically ask me how to buy some blood, or buy drugs. Should I get my manager for this?**

 **Modern AU, Fluff, Brief Smut, Vampire AU**

* * *

Clarke hated summer internships. Every year, she went somewhere promising, and ended up loathing the experience, or being shuttled off to a role that was absolutely not what she signed up for.

Case in point, her premier internship at Polis General Hospital. She thought she'd be working at least within the hospital itself, but no, she'd been assigned to the Hospital's affiliated blood bank on the graveyard shift.

The only positive was that one of the nurses there loathed vampires, so she largely worked reception until Kathy got off around 2:30. If her internship was going to waste her time, and reject her offers and attempts to get into a more productive role, the least she could do was waste their time on her phone in between patients.

She'd just lost a rousing game of Bejeweled when a lithe, nervous, tired-looking woman stepped through the clinic's doors, cautious eyes scanning the area quickly. From her body language, the woman didn't appear too comfortable being there, and from the long glance back at the doors, Clarke could only imagine she was rethinking her decision to enter.

Still, the woman cautiously approached the front desk, head still on a swivel, turning at any noise that cropped up. "Hi."

"Welcome to Polis General Hospital's blood clinic. Can I help you?" Clarke asked, setting her phone down, hoping this one would be an easy in and out.

"So _this_ is a blood clinic...I'm, uh...new to the city. Thought I'd pop in and get a taste for a local landmark and the people." The woman stated before her eyes widened. "Not...not that I'm looking to...I mean, I _embrace_ a lot of things in life but not medical service. Not that you aren't valuable, you provide an important service. I, uh, I just probably won't be around very often at all. Yes."

Clarke stared at the newcomer and used all of her willpower to control her laughter, because the skittish woman before her was kind of adorable. Usually when vampires came in, they'd ask if a room was available with a willing donor. Apparently this one hadn't gotten the memo. Or, well, perhaps she had, and was looking for something else.

"Well I'm happy to hear you appreciate us here at PGH. If you have any questions, I'd be happy to answer." Clarke stated happily, shooting the woman a bright smile that, if anything, only seemed to make her a little more panicked for whatever reason.

"I just...uh...nothing so official. Like I said, new in town." The woman answered with a laugh that sounded more nervous and forced than anything. "Honestly, my uh...my _parent's_ been on my case about me needing to get _life_..."

Clarke let the woman's words trail off, watching as her features contorted in frustration. She could tell that this probably wasn't a discussion about the woman's parents, but she couldn't quite pin down exactly what it was, so she figured she'd keep prodding. At the very least, it'd be an interesting waste of time.

"Parents can be annoying like that. Telling you to do things and not really shining a light on how to get there." Clarke added with her best reassuring smile. Thankfully, the woman seemed a bit relieved at that.

"Tell me about it. I'm more of a woodsy girl, so when I more or less got dropped here out of nowhere, I still find myself filling in the blanks. Like...uh, I work long hours, and I...well, I'm awake at night because of my work schedule, and...and everything's closed." The woman rambled, making Clarke more and more certain that the woman before her was a vampire. "And I'm sure if I walked around aimlessly I could sate my _hunger_ , it's uh...I'd rather be given a...a recommendation? Figure out, um...where to, uh, _sink my teeth_ into. So to speak. Of course, _obviously_."

Honestly, the way the woman kept talking in euphemisms and beating around the bush, Clarke wasn't sure she'd be able to hold a straight face much longer. "Well, I mean, everyone has different tastes. It's hard to say when what works for one might not work for another."

The woman's brow furrowed in concentration as she took in a deep breath. "Well...shit. Um, well, you look like a good judge of character. Where would you recommend me if I wanted to grab a _bite_ to eat? Could you show me?"

"Are you asking me out on a date?" Clarke asked, finally unable to control her giddy smile at the fun she was having. Hopefully the woman just took it as excitement. Though to be honest, she was attractive, if a bit pale and tired looking.

Immediately, the woman's eyes went wide, fangs descending in her mouth a half second later. "Shit, shit, shit _fuck_...I...okay, you are so _beautiful,_ and your smile is _so pure_ , but I'm starving to death...or _undeath_ , I suppose... and I've gone a month without, and everything _hurts_ , and I just need blood."

Clarke glanced back into the clinic and saw Rosa relaxing on one of the beds, reading a magazine. "Kathy, I'm taking my break. Watch the desk."

"Be back in thirty, Clarke!" Her co-worker called out as Clarke rounded the desk and took the woman by the hand.

"You've got my name, can I get yours?" She asked the woman who was halfway stumbling down the hall with her.

"My name is Anya." The woman answered simply, voice sounding a little hoarse.

Clarke smiled back at her and led her to one of their rooms designated for registered donors. Clarke had been registered at the clinic for weeks, but she rarely scheduled herself in to spend more time at the clinic than she needed to, mostly out of spite. But it still gave her clearance to donate when she was on the premises, just when she was clocked out.

"Well Anya, I want you to wait in this room here. I'll be back in a minute with my dinner, and then we can both get our fill, okay?" Clarke asked, earning a slow, confused nod, but there was enough understanding in Anya's eyes for her to take off down the hall to sign herself out on break, making a quick detour to grab her bag from her locker.

She was back to the room in maybe two minutes' time, entering to find Anya seated on the bed, left leg bouncing like a jackhammer. "I wasn't sure you were a vampire at first, so I'm sorry for maybe not catching on. Usually, they just come in, ask if a room's available, pay their fee, and do their thing."

Anya let out a deep sigh. " _Of course_. I...suppose I should have considered that possibility. I'm not used to vampires being...tolerated. It wasn't like that where I used to be."

"I'm sorry to hear it." Clarke noted with a frown as she pulled out her frozen breakfast burrito, wrapped it up properly in paper towel, and tossed it into the microwave for a few minutes. "Things are pretty streamlined here. I think it's done a lot to help. Vampires pay a bit of a premium, which lets us pay donors decently per feed, which makes sure the supply is good and no one's out starving, no one has to worry about vampires in a feeding frenzy or anything, everything's regulated."

Anya nodded along, shooting her a concerned glance at the end of her rambling. "I have money. What does it cost to feed?"

Clarke sized Anya up, knowing she was early into her summer internship, knowing she could use something...or someone...interesting in her life. Perhaps, given the woman's words, they could work something out. "This time? Seventy. Standard rate set by the clinic." Clarke stated as she moved to sit beside Anya, placing her hand over the vampire's. "But maybe...maybe next time, you take me out, I grab a slice of pizza or some ice cream, and maybe we see about getting to know each other."

Anya's eyes went wide, fangs descending again as she nibbled on her lower lip, deep in thought. "I...none of this makes sense. I come in halfway starved to a true death, I make a fool out of myself to a beautiful receptionist, and you're telling me you want to go on a date with me?"

"Well _I_ thought you were kind of adorable." Clarke shot back with a grin, making Anya even more confused, apparently.

"Clarke, I'm a _vampire_. And half-starved. How is that adorable?" Anya asked with a cute little pout.

"And you have really nice eyes, too. Look..." Clarke started, giving Anya's hand a squeeze as she recalled what few bits of innuendo she knew about vampires. "I'm not looking to be _embraced_ or anything. It's just I've been told I'm a good judge of character, and I have a good feeling about you. I also have a long summer ahead of me of being awake during the night and sleeping during the day, and having someone around could be really nice. And if things work out, I'd be all too happy to give you a _kiss_ whenever you needed it to sate your _hunger_."

Anya ducked her head, not nearly enough to hide her smile. "I...I think I'm either a very lucky woman or I'm hallucinating from hunger."

Clarke frowned, deciding to get on with it so Anya would feel better. She pressed her thumb on the scanner and commenced a three minute feeding window with a fifteen second starting delay. Not wanting to potentially cause a disruption during the rest of her shift, Clarke rolled up her right sleeve. "Then feed, Anya. You can use my wrist, please...start when the lights go blue or any time after."

Anya gazed into her eyes and gave a slight nod, lifting Clarke's wrist to her face, eyes fluttering shut when her lips brushed softly against the tender skin.

The moment the lights went blue, Anya's eyes opened, meeting Clarke's gaze as her fangs sunk into her. The moment she felt Anya feeding on her, a whirlwind of arousal blew through her body, overwhelming the brief jolt of pain, spreading from her core outwards, and she could hardly contain her moan at the sensation. She wanted to give in to the feeling, find some source of friction, throw her head back and cry out in ecstasy, but for whatever reason, she found herself unable to look away from the vampire.

She'd heard of feeding, how it all varied depending on the vampire. How some would practically tear all the blood out in an uncomfortably draining few seconds. She'd read about it sometimes causing pain and momentary full-body shock. That most vampires rarely needed longer than half a minute to get what they needed, and tended to be expedient about it.

Clarke could hardly feel any suction at all past the pleasure, her core growing more molten by the second as she felt her wetness pool between her thighs. It was all she could do to pull down her pants before part of them got stained, finding any sort of focus hard to come by with that soft, supple mouth on her wrist, with those warm eyes fondly looking back at her.

She could feel her breathing getting more erratic, and eventually realized she was writhing in place, too slick to really find any friction at all. She was cresting towards her peak when the blue lights lifted, Anya's fangs retracting, a cute pink tongue extending to lick over and seal her wounds.

Clarke, already breathing heavily, let out a huff when Anya finally broke gaze, head falling back as she licked her lips. "You taste divine, Clarke. Fuck."

Filter long since destroyed from the mounting arousal, Clarke weakly lifted her right hand and tilted Anya's face to look at her again. "Yeah I could use one of those right now."

Anya ducked her head and got off the bed, wincing a bit. "Yeah, sorry, I usually take a bit longer than three minutes, I forgot to go faster. I'm sorry I left you hanging."

"Then don't. _Please_. Don't make me do it on my own, I feel a little too weak to manage that." Clarke halfway pleaded, knowing that she probably could get herself off in the break room if need be, but it might have been an adventure getting there, with how weak and off-balance she felt. At Anya's nod, she disengaged the follow-up protocol and got to her feet, wobbling in place for a moment.

Thankfully, Anya was there in a flash, arm wrapped around her waist. "You're in no state to walk, Clarke."

"Yeah, jus' needed to be sure." She answered as Anya got her seated again, spreading her legs and stepping between them. "I thought it was supposed to hurt."

Anya shrugged, cool hand ghosting down Clarke's cheek. "It can. I've...heard that most vampires deem it more polite to cause some discomfort or pain than to...take it slower like I do, when it might embarrass the donor. Out in the country, without a blood bank, I had to make do in finding people to help me feed. Everyone back home always preferred it slower. I was too tired and sore to register that and remember...I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Clarke."

"Anya, all will be forgiven if you give me a thigh or a hand to grind up against." Clarke let out, giving the vampire her biggest doe eyes and best pout, not wanting to take any chances, because whatever Anya did to her, her arousal was not going away, and she needed it taken care of.

Anya sat down beside her and in an instant, she was repositioned onto the vampire's lap, straddling her thigh. With cool arms wrapping around her, and a curious little nose nuzzling up and down her neck, it was hard not to lose herself as her hips bucked and ground down on the offered thigh, Anya letting her set the erratic pace.

Thirty seconds later, at the feeling of soft lips pressing against her neck, Clarke finally felt herself topple over that crest of arousal, body tense and pulsing with pleasure as she slowly worked herself down from climax and slumped against the vampire.

"Okay, so...so that was really _something_..." Clarke let out with a huff into Anya's shoulder, trying to catch a breather, and maybe enjoy the woman's arms around her for a little bit longer.

"Again, I apologize for putting you in this position, Clarke. If there's ever a next time..." Anya started, but Clarke knew where the woman was going with it from the reticent, defeated tone of her voice.

"If there's a next time, I'm giving you the maximum fifteen minute time slot, and you'll take your time. Anya, I...I haven't changed my mind." Clarke clarified, feeling Anya's tense body relax a bit.

"You haven't?" Anya asked, shock and befuddlement colouring her voice as she leaned Clarke's head away from her shoulder to gauge her for sincerity.

Honestly, it was a bit over the top, but it was endearing. "Well, maybe if you don't get me the food I heated up? I'm hungry."

In a flash, she was placed down on the bed, and Anya was back beside her, food in hand, the microwave door wide open. Anya lightly smacked Clarke's cheek with the still decently warm burrito. "Eat up. You'll need your strength for the rest of your shift."

"Shift's done in three hours. Then it's home to sleep...but maybe you give me a call when you wake up?" Clarke asked, taking a pen from her pocket and writing her phone number down on Anya's arm after retrieving her lunch. "I don't work this coming evening."

Anya's lip's slowly stretched into a nervous grin, thumbs fiddling with each other in her lap. "So...if I meet you at Ernesto's Pizzeria tonight?"

Clarke felt something tingling at the periphery of her memory, taking a few moments to put a place to the name before letting out a happy gasp. "That little place on seventh? I love their pizza!" Clarke explained, eyes going wide. The place was a tad expensive, but their pizza was to die for, and their dining room was open a bit later than most places.

"That's a relief, it's the only pizza place I know in town. I can make a reservation for nine fifteen?" Anya asked, earning an immediate nod. It was more than enough time for her to get ready after waking up. "Good. But you need to eat now, you'll need whatever strength you can get."

Clarke let out an affirmative hum before biting into her pleasantly warm burrito. Maybe it was a little cliche, working at a blood bank and going on a date with a vampire client, but she had a good feeling about the woman beside her.

Maybe, at the end of their date, she'd have a relationship they could both sink their teeth into.

 **A/N: This was just a quick thing I wrote up because I thought the prompt could be amusing**

 **Hope you enjoyed it!**


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